The most noble of weaknesses
by Darkwing-Eli
Summary: I already told you, Quatre. To know that I'm good doesn't make me happy at all! Kindness, as you call it, is completely meaningless when you must fight to survive. 4xD
1. Prologue

**Standard disclaimers: **Unfortunately I don't have any rights on Gundam Wing and its characters. I can only take full responsibility of the plot that follows.

**Author introduction: **Greetings to you all. I'm glad to show you this new ficlet of mine. Please, don't ask me why I chose Quatre and Dorothy as main characters, because I actually don't know either. Maybe, because I'm always the black sheep wherever I go and because I'm a hopeless lover of all the secondary characters. Anyway this is the result.

I can assure you that this story is complete and that, after this prologue, five chapters and an epilogue will follow. You'll find them here on regular maturity. This is just because I'm a good person and I don't want to push you to read all at once...Sharpens her modified scythe...Jokes apart, I'll be more than happy to know your opinion about this story that, after all, is my _true_ second fiction.

I wish you all a good reading!

**Dedication:** At the beginning I liked to dedicate this story just to Ivana, Tonka, Tomislav, Dinko and Angela, nice guests and involuntary characters of this virtual adventure. But then I decided to entrust you all with this daydream of mine.

This is because I wish you every possible good, my dear friends, and I want to dedicate this story to those that searched for love but still have to find it, and to those that found it, without searching.

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

_**Prologue**_

"A parcel has just arrived for you, Mr. Winner." The kind voice of the personal secretary of the Chief Executive Officer of the _Winner Corporation_ came out from the intercom.

"A parcel? Could you tell me who the sender is, Mrs. Bates?" Quatre frowned and lifted his eyes from the small mountain of paperwork heaped on his long lost father's desk. Even if he received a huge amount of mail on daily basis, he wasn't used to get parcels.

The old woman mumbled, a bit uneasy. "I don't know, sir. It's a totally anonymous parcel, but it's quite heavy...Judging by the package, it seems to have directly come from Earth. Would you like me to bring it to you?"

"Please, don't. If it's heavy, I'll come to get it in person."

"But, sir..."

Quatre shut down the line without letting the woman reply. Apart from her usual stream of 'mister Winner here and mister Winner there' she treated him no less than a favorite nephew, but Quatre didn't like it at all when people tried to spoil him.

He got up and opened the heavy mahogany doors of his office, heading towards his loyal secretary, that was still talking to him through the intercom.

"I'm here, Mrs. Bates. And...No, before you start to apologize, you didn't disturb me at all. I needed a short pause indeed. I should thank you." He said, his eyes smiling. He raised his hands to sooth the well known series of excuses of the woman.

"But..."

"No _buts_! You work too much, Mrs. Bates, and besides you're not on my payroll as a porter."

The woman sighed and lowered her gaze. "I know, but what I was tying to say is that, this is my work, I'm not used to draw back for a mere hitch." Suddenly her voice crackled. "I remember that I passed nights here at work together with mister Winner...When he still was here...He always needed me. He could call for my help at any moment...But I was glad that I could help...I _am_ glad I _can_ help." She corrected herself.

Quatre swallowed the lump in his throat. There was so much pain in the woman's voice that he had to recall all his self-control to avoid of being overwhelmed as well. He stepped closer to her and put a soft hand on her shoulder, smiling with sadness.

"Your devotion for my father reminds me how much I still have to learn, before I can think to match him. I'm lucky that you are here by my side in this moment, Mrs. Bates. I believe that I can learn so much from you. This is why you must know that I didn't mean to steal your work. Actually...I was just curios to death!" He ended with an embarrassed smile that showed his young age.

"Oh! But mister Winner!" Behind the half-moon shaped eyeglasses, the woman's eyes lost the glossy shade of the unshed tears as she opened them wide, completely shocked. "Breaking off important work for a childish curiosity!"

Quatre shrugged . "Well, this could be an important question too and...Talking about that work...It's true that the _Iron Trans_ proposal is tricky, but I fear that I haven't the best qualification to take care of that contract. I'd need a trustworthy attorney that could give me some good advice. I'm more of a technicist and I'm sure that they'll take me for a ride soon."

Mrs. Bates assumed her professional stand again and grabbed the vid-com receiver. "I'm going to call mister Teodorakis..."

"Please don't. It would be pointless. I already talked to him this morning, but he's right. We're full of work and he's already following that proposal that we have with the _Mars Mining Enterprise._ He can't work on another case."

The woman bit her bottom lip and let her grip on the vid-com slacken, as she started to think of a possible solution. "This is a bad problem, then."

Quatre answered with a confident smile and the sentence that every Winner had impressed in his genetic code. "Don't worry. We'll just have to tuck up our sleeves to find a way. But now...That parcel?"

"Oh, yes! The parcel! Here it is."

A carton case, as big as a toolbox, was waiting for him on the edge of the large horseshoe shaped desk. Quatre studied it for an instant, then picked it up, searching for a clue of its content, but weight apart, he couldn't deduce anything.

"Well, We just have to open it, then." He took a paper knife and began to get rid of the sticky tape, as a heavy hand dropped on his shoulder and pulled him back with violence.

"Rashid? Have you gone crazy?" Quatre blinked, gaining his balance as he recognized his attacker at the same time. "What are you doing here?"

The imposing Security Chief didn't think him worthy of a single glance and remained focused on the box, as if it was carrying a label: 'time bomb'. "What is this? Why didn't it pass from my office before?" He roared to Mrs. Bates.

The woman babbled something uneasy. "It's...It arrived a few minutes ago. With a forwarding agent and..."

"And you should have informed me!"

Quatre intervened, trying to soothe the tension that Rashid brought in his grim look. "Come on, Rashid. Nothing happened. See?"

Quatre picked up the box again and shook it lightly, but was suddenly obliged to let it fall again on the table, as Rashid rushed onto him, throwing him on the floor and shielding him from an imaginary explosion.

When, after minutes of icy terror, Mrs. Bates emerged from under the table. She saw Quatre that struggled under the considerable mass of the Security Chief, in a vain attempt to free himself. If she hadn't been scared to death she could have laughed!

Quatre was yelling at his overprotective bodyguard. "Rashid! That's enough! Don't go too far!"

"If you keep to underestimate everything, you'll run into a real danger, kid! Stay down!"

"But which danger? It's just a parcel! Maybe they just forgot to add the sender's address, that's all!"

"Or they did it on purpose. Those eco-terrorists never stop in front of anything!"

Quatre sighed resigned. "All right, they blew up one of our fertilizer warehouse because they mistook it for a chemical weapons facility, but it happened months ago! And it was pretty evident that they were just a bunch of drunk hotheads." But as he noticed the stubborn glance of his interlocutor and the terrified gaze of his secretary, he sighed and threw his hands up exasperated. "All, right. You'll open it."

Finally free, Quatre could stand on his feet again. Mrs. Bates hurried quickly to him and hid behind his back. "Do you really think it's coming from a terrorist?" She asked whispering, as if by speaking normally she could awake the terrible monster hidden inside the box. Quatre remained silent and simply stared at Rashid's cautious movements.

Despite his big, calloused hands, he opened the packaging with an uncommon care. At last, after a brief look at the content, he extracted the note that he found inside and started to read in silence. Suddenly he frowned.

"Well?" Quatre and Mrs. Bates asked at the same very moment; a slight apprehension in their voices.

Rashid was as serious as a piece of lead when he turned his glance towards them. "He's definitely a terrorist." He said.

"What?" Quatre widened his eyes, speechless, but he couldn't think about the menace that he had to face since Mrs. Bates suddenly half-fainted into his arms. He carried her to a nearby chair while, as pale as a ghost, she begun to repeat a nonstop sequence of: "Oh, Poor us. Oh, poor us."

Kneeled by her side, Quatre started to fan her with a piece of paper and, without stopping his "rescue operations" turned to Rashid. "What does that note say? What do they want from us? What do they want from _me_?" He added.

Rashid took an apple that was inside the box and stared at it, as if it had been the first fruit that he'd ever seen.

"An apple? What does this mean? Do they want to poison me?"

Quatre left Mrs. Bates and jumped by Rashid's side in no time, grabbing the note from his hands. He started to read out loud the first lines.

_'Sincere greetings to the Winner Corporation's C.E.O., Mr. Quatre R. Winner. With this I'd like to offer you a...a...uh! What the heck! I don't know! How the hell do you call a gift in bureaucrat-ese? You know that I'm not good at writing, Q-man!_'

Quatre read the last line twice...'_Q-man? But I know just one person that calls me like that..._' He kept on reading, under Mrs. Bates's attentive eyes and Rashid's amused ones.

'_However while I'm here on Earth - so to speak, since I'm underwater 12 hours a day and the 12 left I'm over the water - I thought it would be nice for me to send you a souvenir. I was searching for peaches, but Howard was right, here where we are now there aren't peaches. _1 _In this season here is colder than the slums of L2, so I couldn't find them. But I sent you these apples. I picked them in person from a native countryman...Hey, don't you want me to tell you how I convinced him to loosen his hold on them? Well, actually I was trying to steal them, but yes, okay... maybe I lost my touch because he caught me. Could it be fault of the helicopter's engine? Only Heaven knows! But can you realize this...? Man! The great Shinigami caught red-handed by a common farmer!_'

Quatre started to laugh. He couldn't believe that Duo tried to steal some apples just for him! As if he now needed to steal to have them! But that was his friend's style. That mail was surely in Duo's own hand.

"But, who is he?" Mrs. Bates asked, as she held her breath, not having forgotten Rashid's statement about the nature of the sender. Besides she couldn't understand why Quatre was so happy that he just got an apple basket from a terrorist.

"He's Duo." He said. "Do you remember him? He came here to see me, a couple of years ago, during the war."

Finally the woman's gaze lit up. "Oh, yes! He's that young man with long hair, isn't he?" She smiled, recalling the day she met him. "I remember him. He came here asking for you, but he hadn't an appointment. I was about to drive him away but, I don't know how, he managed to convince me to let him inside." She giggled. "He also said that I was a charming woman! He thought I was younger of five years!"

Quatre rolled the eyes and shook his head. Only his friend could be so talkative to send a professional woman as Mrs. Bates out of phase. "Yes. I'd say your memory is excellent, but let's see what he has to say."

'_However you won't believe me, but the lively old man...recognized me! Do you remember about that price they sat on my head, right after Heero dragged me out the cage? Well...This guy hasn't a single tooth in his mouth and he's more wrinkled than a tortoise, but he obviously still has all his neurons working, because he simply called me by my name! You can picture my face...At that point I thought that he was going to beat the shit out of me with that stick of his! But he just asked me for an autograph for his nephews and gifted me with the apples. Well...it's a good thing to earn a basket of apples as a reward for saving the world, right? However give them a try, they're delicious. I bet you won't find anything so good over there!_'

Quatre lifted the eyes from the paper and looked at Rashid. He was biting the apple that he still held in his hand and his blissful expression was enough to tell that Duo was right. In those apple there was all the taste given by mother earth.

"I must say that our rascal had good taste. He scared us, but he had good taste." Rashid acknowledged. Quatre smiled and kept on reading.

'_Ah...And if you are wondering why I didn't sign the sender on the parcel, you must know that it wasn't a mistake._'

Out of the corner of his eye Quatre saw Rashid as he rose a perplexed eyebrow, as he bit his apple. He went on reading.

'_I did that for grumpy man Rashid, of course. I know that the Old Owl becomes nervous if he hasn't any concrete menace to take care of. So I figure that with an anonymous parcel, sent to your holy person, he has alerted the whole Maguanacs corps by now. Some training never hurts!_'

By pure chance Rashid didn't choked on the apple juice as Quatre interrupted the reading to laugh out loud. Things didn't go exactly like Duo said, but after all he wasn't really wrong. Even Mrs. Bates had to hide her giggling in front of the reaction of the stoic warrior. Obviously she couldn't tell it to anybody, but she also thought that Mr. Rashid had the look of a huge owl, with that stern expression and those untamed eyebrows.

"How did he call me? Old Owl? I hope for him that he doesn't meet me, because if he lost his touch, I didn't lose mine at all!"

Quatre slapped his long time friend on the back "Come on, you know that this is just Duo's way to say hello. Look at what he says after."

'_Naturally there's no need to ask you to say hello to everyone for me. One of these days we should come back to that place...What's the name of that cute village in the desert, full of those fantastic chicks dancing covered just with that so-small-it-should-be-illegal veil? Well...I don't remember the name, but we surely need more places like that in the world._

_Now I'll say goodbye. Howard is here, grumbling like a potful of beans because we lost a day because of a storm, so I must go. Don't tell me that you're up to your neck in work, because I'd like you to drop by here on Earth for a trip._

_When you're free, blow me a whistle, okay? You know that I'm always ready for a good run away!_

_Waves!_

_Duo_'

Before going on with the reading, Quatre quickly glanced across the note. A long _post scriptum_ was to follow and a word, written in capitals, stood out between the lines, written in the irregular handwriting of his friend. Quatre carefully folded the mail and put it inside the box full of apples.

"Well, it looks like Duo could throw the house into confusion even from so far away." He cheerfully stated. Then he picked up the box and hurried back to his office.

Rashid and Mrs. Bates remained still, staring at the closed doors, speechless for the incomprehensible Quatre's hurry.

They couldn't know that the friendly mail contained the magic word that could make anyone loose calmness and reflection, also a quiet person like Quatre.

It was the name of a woman, of course.

TBC...

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1 _ref. "Peaches in winter", by the same author._

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**AN: **Here we are at the end of this episode, or better, at the beginning of this romantic adventure. I truly hope you liked it, despite its levity and my obvious mistakes. I'm really curios to know what you think of this. I'll wait for you with open arms, just let me have a way to contact you.

Thank you in advance,

Darkwing


	2. Chapter 1

**Standard disclaimers: **See previous chapter.

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

Chapter 1 

Quatre tried his best to relax on the seat of the shuttle that was carrying him onto Earth, but he failed, even before starting. He was too eager to arrive to be as quiet as his expression showed.

For the umpteenth time he drew out the mail that Duo sent him just a few days before. He had already read that note a thousand times, and it always achieved the same effect on him: a sudden increasing of his pulse. That surely wasn't the best treatment, if he truly wanted to relax, but he couldn't help it.

'_P.S. Guess who I met here! C'mon, it's easy...She's an old acquaintance of yours. Okay, to help you, I'll give you a little boost and let's see if you can resolve the problem. Fine...Angel-like face plus devil-like smile is equal to...? Ooookay, don't pretend to play dumb with me! Only your dear old friend Dorothy resolves the equation, duh? _

I met her in the last place I could have ever guessed this possible. At Split's airport. I was there to inspect some materials while she had just arrived in Croatia for her holidays. She was headed to the coast, in a place...Jeez, wait! I can't recall the name but I jotted it down...Here it is...Mürter. If she didn't tell me fibs, she'll be there for a month, enjoying the sea...alone.

_Yeah, in short, she misses a prince in shining armor to slice and stab and, since you've a reasonable experience in this sector, I immediately thought of you. Of course I won't take any offence if, instead of having a trip onto our lovely platform - nowdays navigating the pleasant Land of the fire's coast - you'll take a detour to the Mediterranean sea._'

Duo ended his mail with the sketch of a winking face with the thumb up. Quatre thought that more likely, if his friend had had a different past, he could have become a talented artist. Into that daub he hid all the mischief and the enthusiasm concealed behind his revelation. Anyways, despite the cheek of his hints, he had to admit that Duo had hit the bull's eye.

It had been really difficult for him to delete all his appointments and convince Mrs. Bates that he had to leave at every cost - and without giving her too many explanations about the nature of that trip.

Nature that was unclear to himself too. What did he hope to gain? Why was he making a trip of about a million of miles to meet a woman that, after all, tried to kill him?

If Rashid had known the truth, he wouldn't have ever been able to get rid of him! It had already been hard to convince him that he wasn't going to risk anything, since he was simply going to see Duo. But the tough warrior thought it different and the fact that the both of them were together for him just meant that the chances that they got themselves into a mess doubled. It had been a real task for Quatre, to remind him that they both had proven themselves able to take care of themselves. However to make him promise that he was going to stay on L4 to mind to his own work, he had to use all his delivery and some half-hidden threats.

In any case he had to admit that, when he'd said he would go onto Howard's platform he said just a half-truth, since he planned to go there just for a couple of days and only before leaving again for space.

But after all he needed a good excuse before leaving everybody in the lurch. So he thought it would be a good idea to say that he'd join pleasure with profit and would talk about a common activity.

However, at last, he could leave for his secret holiday. '_Well...Holiday...I don't know if this is the right word_.' Quatre told himself.

Duo was right, of course. Dorothy's angelic beauty could be a deadly trap for those that couldn't read between the lines of her catlike glances. He unfortunately knew it well. By instinct he reached his side with a hand, where the indelible scar of Dorothy's blade had marked their confrontation with the fire of blood.

Perhaps that was the reason why he was curious to meet her again. He needed to know if, after all that time, she still possessed the intimate scar let by the blood that she used to satisfy her inner pain.

He couldn't hide from himself that the mere thought of facing her made him rather nervous. He didn't know how to behave because he never fully understood the way in which they left each other: if as friends or as enemies. Quatre thought that to discover the truth was going to be the main goal of this trip. He smiled, thinking about what Heero would say.

'Mission accepted!' He playfully copied into his mind.

After another half a day by shuttle, two intermediate stops and a couple of hours by car, Quatre finally could take a breath of relief.

He got down from his rented off-road car and stretched his muscles, stiff from the long trip. He deeply breathed the spiced and salty wind and, by magic, all the tension given by the previous hours disappeared into the evening sun.

Still a bit dazed, he tried to form a quick idea about the places he would spend - he hoped pleasantly - the next few days.

He had to admit that Dorothy showed a very good taste when she chose this destination for her holidays. Jezera was an enchanting village. It was settled in a bay, in the comfortable embrace of Mürter island and had grown up thanks to the abundance of fish in its sea. In time, the scarcely inhabited inland and the uncontamined beauty of the marine habitat promoted tourism.

The amount and the kind of sport crafts moored along the seashore gave a certain clue about the considerable number of vacationers, staying with the native fishermen. However, with a quick glance to the essential plastered houses and to the simple grocer's shops near the small port, one could understand that the inhabitants still held the sincere simplicity that belonged to those that counted on nature to live. Suddenly enthusiastic, Quatre hurried to take his luggage out of the car and crossed the threshold of the small guesthouse where he booked a room.

A barefoot and tanned child came out from God-knows-where and collided into him, before running out on the street.

"Ivana!" That was the only word that Quatre could understand about the excited recall, shouted by the old man running after her.

Her only answer was a cheeky face as she shook the blond mane that framed her toothless smile. She waved, holding a slice of raw meat and a small bucket, then she flew away, as fast as she came. The elder sighed and shook his head, mumbling something in Croatian that Quatre couldn't understand. Then he turned to him to apologize himself. "She's Ivana, my granddaughter. There's no way to convince her to stay still for the whole dinner. She believes it's a waste of time. She always has something else to do...and of course fishing is always on the top of her list. But it's not her fault, after all. She's so much like her father! It's in her blood."

Quatre smiled and nodded. "Actually it's quite difficult to escape our legacy and perhaps...Well, maybe it's not right to try to do it."

The old man stared at him, vaguely amazed by that statement and observed him as he noticed him just in that moment. Then he nodded. "You know what, lad? You're right! And if Ivana will fish enough, we'll make a good fry!"

Quatre laughed. The domestic atmosphere of that place was revitalizing.

The elder went back to the reception desk and put on his glasses. "But don't stay stock-still on the doorway with all those bags. Have you a reservation, kid?"

"Yes. I called two days ago. My name's Winner."

The old man checked on the register and took Quatre's papers. After a glance, he lifted his stunned gaze. "Winner? That Winner? The _Winner Corporation_ Winner?"

Quatre bit his bottom lip, a bit uneasy even if, all in all, it was better to be recognized as an industrialist rather than as a former _Gundam_ pilot like happened to Duo. "I'm afraid that you might be right." He admitted.

The elder hurried immediately by his side and took a rucksack from Quatre's hands. "It's a great honor to have you here, Mr. Winner. Please, let me help you!"

Quatre took the rucksack back from the hotelkeeper's hands and quietly shook his head. It was surely true that to be Quatre Winner, the famous L4 magnate, could be better than to be Quatre Winner, the rebel pilot, but he was sure that if people could know what he had been, they would stop to treat him like a porcelain doll. "Here there isn't any Mr. Winner." He said. "My name's Quatre, and you were so much nicer when you called me lad, mister...?"

"Dinko." The old man stretched out his hand. "And there isn't any mister here too."

Quatre returned a warm handshake. He was happy. He felt that it was going to be an unforgettable holiday!

After all those hours spent traveling, he theoretically should have been in pieces, but since the first moment he arrived, he hadn't wanted anything else than to rush to the beach and have a swim.

Dinko insisted that he had to have dinner with them, but he politely declined his invite, saying that he already had something on the plane and he wasn't hungry. So he grabbed a towel and headed to where he'd seen little Ivana running earlier.

In less than five minutes he reached the seashore. The sight stole him all his breath.

There had been only a few times when he had seen in person such a wonderful landscape. The sun was low, darting golden oblique rays on the waves, just lightly choppy, under the evening breeze. On the horizon, the multitude of islands belonging to the Kornat archipelago hid sea arms and drew twisted blue routes in a scenery that seemed always slightly changing.

Actually the beach was nonexistent. It rather consisted in rough burnished rocks, gradually sloping into the water. The scented pinewood behind his back was the coast's verdant frame. The mildness and the harshness of that place mixed together in the harmonious evening silence. Nobody was there. It was perfect in its simplicity.

Not far away he noticed Ivana's golden head, bent among the rocks. Now made curious, he joined her.

"Hi!" He greeted, bowing to her level.

The child didn't think him worthy a glance and kept on staring at a mossy cleft near the strand, with the typical concentration of every child. Quatre couldn't see anything interesting in that small gorge, but then he finally discerned something that moved in the darkness.

With a rapid and fluid movement of her small hand, Ivana grasped her prey and pulled it out of its hole, smiling satisfied. With a long speech that would have likely been not understandable even to a native Croatian speaker, she waved a crab so big that could have cut off one of her fingers without any effort.

"I can't believe it...But, how did you do?"

Invana smiled, showing with pride her still growing incisors. Then she thrust the crab into the bucket where a smaller specimen was held captive. She handled it to Quatre and took him by hand. Evidently she wanted to show him her hunting techniques. She didn't mind at all if they couldn't understand each other.

'_Maybe we won't need to speak to get along well_.' Quatre thought, following her.

They stopped a few steps after, near to a small slit, seemingly identical to thousand others, but that got the little one's attention. Ivana begun with her incomprehensible explanations, as she explored the hole. Quatre noticed that she put a lot of care to avoid to cast her shadow inside. He found amazing the professionalism of a such young child. Her skill in planning her movements was impressive. He was certain that if he tried, or he would beat the air or he would taste the crab's claws.

A sudden splash, coming from a rock not far away, distracted him from his hunting lesson, making him skip the climax when, giving proof of all her ability, Ivana captured another prey.

"I can't believe it..." For the second time in a row, that was all that Quatre could say.

But when Ivana showed him the monstrous creature that she was holding with her small fingers, she was deluded to see that this time she wasn't the reason behind her new friend's stunned expression. She followed his gaze and saw a lady, swimming not far from her hunting area.

Quatre stood on his feet, as he saw the figure that resurfaced from the water. In that moment he knew why the ancient Greeks believed that Aphrodite was born by the foam of the sea. Actually how could he figure it different, when the ancient myth was coming back to life right under his gaze?

A fall of fair locks, shining despite soaked with water, were sticking to a lithe body, soft and elegant, perfect as the limbs of an immaculate statue. Wasn't the most beautiful of all the Olympus goddesses looking like that, when she emerged from the Aegean waters a handful of millennia before?

Ivana stared with a mix of astonishment and disappointment at Quatre's hypnotized gaze, as he literally scanned the lady that was now placing down her diving mask, her flippers and a small net bag. Why was that lady more interesting than her crabs? Then she recalled the fairy tale that her mommy used to tell her before bedtime, the one about that young mermaid in love with a human prince...She smiled. That was her favorite tale. Maybe her new friend thought the same!

Quatre kept on watching the graceful movements of the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. He didn't miss the loving care of her slender fingers as she put away the long blade, tied to her tapering calf. He couldn't prevent his eyes to slip on the rhythmic up and down of her breasts, still covered with water drops, shining like the crystal of her azure-gray eyes.

"Dorothy Catalonia..." He whispered; his words barely audible to his own ears.

As if he shouted to the wind, the young woman turned her almond-shaped and narrow eyes toward him. Like a cat caught at night by a car's lights, she stared at him stunned, hesitant. Would have she liked to run away? Quatre couldn't tell, but he could see her as she whispered his name on her rosy lips.

So she hadn't forget him...

On his side he was completely forgetful of the crab hunting lesson. He forsook the bucket and its precious contents and, after mumbling something he let Ivana alone as she held her last trophy like a fool. But, after all, the little girl didn't mind it. She got out of the way and hid herself behind a rosemary bush that grew wild close to the pinewood. Now she could observe the scene unseen. Of course she couldn't listen to their speech, but what was the matter? In any case she couldn't understand their language. Anyway if the prince had kissed the princess mermaid...

She crouched and waited, watching as Quatre approached the lady and she studied the situation with the patience typical of an experienced huntress.

"Quatre Raberba Winner." Dorothy begun, with an half-smile that put a cross on the previous astonishment. "Is it a _Gundam_ pilot's gift to sneak up on one's back?"

Quatre kindly smiled, trying his best to hide his emotion. He had certainly came there to meet her, but he believed that he should have searched for her. He didn't think for a minute that she could be his first encounter. He was totally unprepared and besides...Which kind of way was to greet him after years of silence? What did that mean? Did she find unpleasant his presence there? He tried to provide her a vague answer. "It can be useful, in some circumstances."

Dorothy gathered her long hair, showing indifference, and used both her hands to pull it in front on her and squeeze the excess of water away. Quatre couldn't help but stare at those thin shiny drops, trickling along her sculptured body.

"Really? And which circumstances are you mentioning...in this case?"

Quatre's treacherous eyes met her gaze once again. That was another question. Was that a warning shot? Which was the right answer? Was it possible that she smelled the rat and understood that Duo sent him there and this meeting hadn't happened by chance? He felt like Oedipus in front of the Sphinx's eyes: a wrong answer and...Bang! Game over!

He needed a quick counterattack. In the few instants at his disposal, he could find just one. "Well...Hunting, for instance. I was hunting crabs with..." Quatre pointed at something behind his back that, judging by the way she arched an eyebrow, Dorothy couldn't see.

Quatre turned his head and, when noticed that Ivana had disappeared, he understood that his limp excuse, had appeared truly ridiculous to Dorothy. '_What a wonderful way to start! This is what you can call a masterstroke!_' He told himself. Mentally he slapped himself with a virtual blow that would have easily knocked flat a mammoth.

"Perhaps I should shake your hand, you know?" Dorothy laughed, bringing Quatre's attention back to her eyes. "Of all the answers you could give me, this is certainly the most fantastic."

"As they say...Truth always surpasses imagination." Quatre said, in an effort to hide his embarrassment with a joking tone.

Dorothy looked askance at him, with those eyes of her, so apparently cold and unintelligible. "Isn't perhaps that you're going around Maxwell a bit too assiduously?" She made a pause long enough to let her hint gain a meaning. Then she kept on talking in total calm. "You know? This could have serious repercussions on a 'good guy like you..."

'_Oh, no! Other questions!_' Quatre felt his brain on the verge of an explosion. And what's more, Dorothy was straightening her aim and he was sure that with the next broadside she'd have shot him squarely. It was requested evading maneuver. He smiled. "I fear that even with all my efforts, I couldn't match Duo. Besides, it's been a long time since I've seen him.

"Really?"

Quatre was well aware that the amazement in that gray gaze was as sincere as his innocence, so he remained silent.

"What a coincidence, then. Think that I met him just a few days ago, when I just landed here."

"Really? What a coincidence!"

"Indeed." Dorothy commented as she dropped the argument. She bent to pick up her things with the obvious purpose to go back to her lodgings. Quatre sighed in relief. He was safe…for now.

"But it's really flattering to know that you made such a long travel just so see me."

Quatre didn't know if he paled or blushed, he was only certain that he changed color. '_Damn! Hit and sank with a single shot!_'

Dorothy laughed; a shining spark in her amused eyes. "You didn't change at all in these years, Quatre. You still blush too easily, but it's always fun to confront you. I hope I'll meet you again, one of these days." The young woman wrapped a colored scarf around her hips, before heading toward the village.

Quatre swallowed and rushed an answer. "Glad to hear you talk like this, Dorothy. Even if I must say that I don't understand which kind of confrontation you're talking about."

She turned back to him, letting her long wet locks twirl around her shoulders. "It's kind of strange to hear you ask me this question, Quatre. You know better than me which are the best competitions."

Quatre tried to guess. "The most hard fought?"

She smiled with her typical ill-concealed malice and shook her head. "Those worthy to be won, of course."

TBC...

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	3. Chapter 2

**Standard disclaimers: **See first chapter.

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

_**Chapter two**_

She had openly challenged him. Quatre could perfectly understand this even if, for a strange reason, he had never completely understood Dorothy. Was this exception what teased him?

He held his breath and plunged again into the limpid water, hoping to clear up his mind. Why, if he had always been so good at understanding the other people's feelings, couldn't he do that now, when he needed it the most?

'_Damn!_' With an angry gesture, he vented his frustration on the waves, assaulting them with his vigorous strokes. He let himself sink into the effort to clear his mind; he stopped only when his tired muscles protested for the lack of oxygen. Rejuvenated by the physical effort, he decided that it was time to come back onto the seashore.

He climbed on the rocks and rubbed his fair hair with the towel. Then he carefully folded it and finally sat down, strangely relaxed.

Only a short time passed before his rebel thoughts proposed him again the slender silhouette of Dorothy, as she emerged from the water, where he had climbed up only a few minutes before. God, she was beautiful! She was even more beautiful then he remembered. She had grown up of course...Well, to be honest she hadn't really grown up, it was more like she now was a real woman. During the past two years something changed inside of her, yet she was still the same: the same charm, the same mystery. It was as if a wet blanket held her captive...

Quatre closed his eyes for a moment. The memory of that duel that she forced him into was still sharp. But what he kept impressed in his mind weren't the gestures and the movements, nor the succession of the events, he rather had been branded by the emotions that exploded in the moment. He was aware that the vigor, the energy and the passions of the few minutes spent crossing their blades, would haunt his memory for the living years. How could he forget the single instant when, under the ruthless and bare influence of the _Zero System_, Dorothy let slightly surface the part of her nature that she always hid? He just had needed an instant to see how her inner splendor exceeded her physical beauty; a split second, to cross the freezing walls that she erected around her soul and that kept her far from real life, far from any chance of happiness...from the world.

'_She's like a mermaid that can't love the sea._' He bitterly thought. '_Who knows if she now learned to cry...?_'

Still deep in thought, Quatre got up to come back to his guesthouse and headed along the path, a veiled melancholy feeling took advantage of him. He had always wondered if Dorothy had finally stopped to walk on the edge and had decided to live a real life, instead of letting her inner self die. The war had gifted with bad scars them all. He'd have paid for anything to know if she had allowed to her wounds to heal or if, like himself, she was at least trying.

He needed to meet her again. He needed to talk to her. He wanted to know about her, how was she doing, which kind of life she was having...and above all, he needed to find out which was the nature of the challenge that she wanted to win against him.

Personally he always believed that she was the one that, on the _Libra_ space station abandoned him while holding a trophy in her hand. She challenged him and she almost killed him. What else did she need more to proclaim herself the winner? Did she want to complete that work? But why? Now there weren't factions to die for. He couldn't see a good reason to be on opposite sides. He was fed up with fighting, why did she still crave to face him?

Completely lost in his thoughts, he crossed the porch entrance without looking around. His appearance didn't go unnoticed though. Little Ivana run to him with her radiant face and took his hand, greeting him with a joyful stream of incomprehensible words.

"It looks like you made a hit with her, lad." The jovial voice of Dinko reached him from a dimly lit corner, under the vine bower.

Quatre rubbed the nape of his neck, ruffling his still wet hair. "Uh! I believe so. Even if I don't exactly know how I achieved that."

The old man revealed the simple truth, winking. "I think that she considers you a sort of Prince Charming."

"Oh, in this case, I can't delude such a pretty princess." The young man joked, letting the child lead him to the table where her grandfather was resting together with a man that looked like his son.

Dinko offered him a chair and made the proper introductions. "My son-in-law, Tomislav." He said.

"Nice to meet you." Quatre shook the strong hand of his host, returning the welcome with sincerity. He must have been Ivana's father, since the resemblance was evident. The same fair hair, the same eyes, the same clearness in their gaze.

"Have a sip with us." Dinko proposed. I'll ask my daughter to bring another glass." He didn't listen to Quatre's protests and called the woman, that was working in the not too far kitchen.

A voice said something, but nobody came out.

"She's still busy with the little one, but she's going to be here soon." Tomislav translated, with his strong Slavic accent.

"So Ivana has a little sister." Quatre smiled, caressing the soft head of the child, that had climbed on his lap.

"She's six months old." The proud father stated. "Her name's Tonka."

Quatre softly smiled. "A family...It's a wonderful thing."

Dinko and Tomislav shared a quizzical look as they saw the suddenly melancholic gaze of their young guest, but they didn't ask questions that could be embarrassing. "What do you think about this place, kid?" Dinko asked instead.

Quatre's azure-green eyes smiled again. "Enchanting. You're lucky that you can live here."

A string pride was evident in the old man's smile but, despite his love for his native country, he appeased Quatre's enthusiasm. "Don't be deceived by the appearance. It's beautiful, but it hides it's dangers. We're well aware of this, right Tome?"

The other man nodded, with the self-confidence of who has his reasons to claim an opinion. Then, noticing the quizzical look on his guest's face, he explained what his father-in-law meant. "The sea here is good for fishing, even if during the summer we must go far from the coast, but it's unpredictable for those that don't know it well. A strong wind can rise in a moment and the sea can pass from force zero to force eight in less then three hours."

Quatre was amazed. "I didn't believe possible that a such close sea could suffer these phenomena."

Tomislav nodded. "During the winter the wind can blow to more than nineteen knots. But even in summer windy days can happen. It can be really dangerous if you're caught off guard by a storm."

Quatre was sincerely amazed. "And how do you deal with this?"

Tomislav smiled. "I guess that for us sailing is like flying in space for you. I live in this way since the day I was born. Now I'd also like to increase my sphere of activity by buying a new and bigger fishing-boat, equipped for the deep-sea."

"Have luck, then."

Tomislav nodded. "Thanks. I'll need it. I still have to find the money and I must also find a way to sell the one that I already have or I won't make it."

Quatre politely nodded, as Dinko cut off the conversation in his cheerful way. "Here is my daughter! Angela!" He exclaimed, pointing at somebody behind Quatre's back.

The young man stood up to greet the woman, letting Ivana run to her father. The lady of the house was tall and long-limbed and her gentle, hazel gaze hid a strong personality. Before shaking Quatre's hand she put on the table a tray with three more glasses.

_'Three? Who's the third?_' Then, following Angela, another person appeared, holding a baby in her arms. Even in the semi-darkness, the ethereal brightness of the newcomer was unmistakable. "Dorothy?"

The girl smiled, arching her eyebrows. "So they're right when they say that the world is a small place." She said, as the little one was fiddling with one of her liquid, golden locks.

"I know nothing about the world, but Jezera is very, very small." The old Dinko laughed. "Do you know each other?"

"Yes." Quatre said, not really sure about the authenticity of his statement. Could one really say to know Dorothy?

He offered his chair to the girl and searched for another one that he settled by her side.

"We are long time _friends_." The young woman revealed. "But it was a surprise for the both of us, when we met here this evening."

Was an impression of Quatre or she underlined the word 'friends' in an odd way? He had to make a real effort to don't draw a rushed conclusion. He shifted the thread of his thoughts. "And so this little missy is Tonka!" He said. He caressed her chubby cheek with a finger that the baby promptly grabbed, sucking it as a dummy. "Hey, what a grip! She's strong!"

"Would you like to hold her?"

Dorothy's proposal froze him right there. "Well, I'm not sure. I know nothing about children..."

"Oh, come on. Besides you need to make some experience, lad. One of these days your turn will come, right?" Old Dinko innocently teased him, but and made him turn his color without any real effort.

Defeated, Quatre couldn't do anything but smile shyly. "What must I do?"

"Have a seat." Dorothy ordered. "I'll put her down."

The young woman stood up and approached him, laying the little one onto his lap. Tonka frowned perplexed, as the stronger arms replaced the soft and comfortable ones that belonged to the girl.

"Don't be so stiff." Dorothy reproached.

"I don't want to hurt her." Quatre confessed, in total disease. He was sweating. Everybody laughed, except for him and the baby that by now was on the verge of tears.

"Look, keep this hand like this and relax." Dorothy instructed. "She isn't a nitroglycerine bottle, she's a baby. You can't hurt her only by holding her, but if you don't make her feel safe, she doesn't like it." She took his hand and guided it under the tiny body, making Tonka happy and increasing Quatre's heart beat.

The young man took a deep breath, trying to avoid the electrifying feeling that the touch had on him, but he reached the opposite goal. The sweet and sour fruity scent exhaling from Dorothy's hair was intoxicating. She was close...Too close, damnit! And that light flowered dress that she was wore! It gave her such an innocent look...He couldn't believe that she was whetting him on purpose, but her catlike eyes drove him crazy!

"See," she explained, gazing him in the eyes. "You need kindness and firmness...and they both are virtues that you possess..." She concluded, letting her sentence hang as if the meaning should be obvious. Quatre couldn't understand.

Dorothy finally moved away and came back to her chair. "What a sweet scene!" She joked.

Quatre raised a skeptical look.

"Have you ever thought about having a family of your own, lad?" Dinko asked in a careless tone.

Quatre blinked in surprise. "I well...Actually…I couldn't think of it, until now. And besides, as they say, I still have to find the 'right' one."

Angela looked slyly at him. "What? Such a handsome guy? I'm sure you've plenty of admirers."

Quatre sighed, of course he had occasions, but he wasn't too enthusiast about his acquaintances. He sighed. Now in the words of his hosts he could hear again Mrs. Bates and Rashid. While Mrs. Bates was craving for a little one to spoil, Rashid claimed that a man of his social level had the duty to marry 'at least' a wife. Personally he didn't feel at all inclined to polygamy and besides, he didn't meet even a single girl! How could he think to fall in love with a multitude? And as if this wasn't enough, he had episodes in his past that were difficult to share.

He frowned. Thinking better, the problem could be that. Could it be possible that the sense of guilt for destroying thousand families during the war made him unable to live the kind of joy that he stole from other human beings?

He looked at Tonka. A such bright smile that could have melt a gundanium block lit up her cheeks. He couldn't help but return that smile, but he felt a drop of that fused metal burn his deep soul. How many fathers and mothers lost their children because of him? And how many innocent children would have never seen their parents again? How many Heero, Duo and Trowa did he create?

He bit his lip and the baby turned serious. Trying to not pour his bad mood on the little one, he got up to commit her to her mother. She didn't protest, until she realized that she was going to be dropped into a new pair of arms. She instinctively searched for a hold and, with her tiny fingers, she grabbed the light down on the still naked Quatre's chest pulling hard and recalling all her strength.

"Ouch!" Quatre exclaimed. "What is this? A sort of revenge because I can't hold you well?" In front of the surprised face of the young man, the baby lost herself in a joyful laugh, alternated with hearty gurglings, before letting her mother to embrace her.

"I don't believe this is a revenge." The woman explained in amusement. "I rather believe that she likes you. She never smiles to those that can't understand her." She caressed her daugher's back, noticing his perplexed look. "Children's eyes can't lie. I'm sure that she saw something in your heart that not everybody has."

Quatre found himself holding his breath, shocked. If there was something that he didn't want Tonka to see was exactly what he banished into the deepest corner of his soul. He could never forgive himself if the baby suffered for the bad influence of his faults. He politely smiled and addressed to everybody. "I truly hope you could forgive me, but I had a very tiring trip. I believe I need some rest."

"Of course! No need to apologize!" Dinko waved his hand.

Everybody wished him a good night, even Dorothy. Quatre said goodbye and turned away, heading upstairs.

He couldn't see the pair of gray and curios eyes that followed him.

TBC...

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**AN:** If you survived also this chapter, please let me know what you think. Your opinions are really worthy for me. But you already know this, so...Thank you in advance for your attention and time. See you soon!

Kisses,

Darkwing


	4. Chapter 3

**Standard disclaimers: **See first chapter.

**Author note**: I apologize with all the readers for the delay. I didn't mean to make you wait, but life lately forced me to keep my mind busy elsewhere. I hope the wait will be worthy, but in any case, thanks for being here.

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

Chapter three 

In the morning, the creepy melancholy of the previous evening had turned into a lazy drowsiness. Quatre would have liked to sleep some more but, whether the new bed or the dreams that tormented him, he couldn't really rest.

Since his father had died, he had never dreamt of him, but the past night brought him back to life again, even if just for a few hours. In an obsessing succession of events, he perceived the same feel of loss of that tragic day, when he left him forever. He felt like within his mind time had frozen in that very moment. The reason why that night he lived those instants again was something that he wasn't curios to know. Maybe the discussion of the previous evening about children and families had a bad influence on him, so now, instead of being relaxed and enjoying his holiday, he was tense and anxious.

At last he slowly wore something and got down to have breakfast. As he ate his simple meal, made with yogurt and honey, he found himself staring at the chair where Dorothy sat with little Tonka the previous evening. It made a strange impression on him, to see her so at ease as she held the child. He already intimately knew that, behind that cold façade, Dorothy hid a gentle soul, but it had been good to see his perceptions confirmed. It seemed that she finally accepted those grace and kindness that during the war tormented her so much.

"May I sit here?"

Quatre blinked, caught by surprise. He raised his gaze and met the enigmatic smile of the woman object of his thoughts.

"Yes...Yes, of course." He immediately stood up to help her with the chair, but she didn't allow him the chivalrous gesture and sat down before he could even move.

She laid fruit salad and orange juice on the table. "Slept well, then?" She begun, with affected naturalness, as she sipped her juice.

"Not bad, thank you."

Quatre hesitated an instant, studying her eyes. She didn't believe him, of course. And he wasn't surprised at all. Comprehension had always been strangely instinctive for them: dazzling lights, broken by moments of impregnable darkness. All their secrets had always been thin as a smokescreen: a simple eyelash could make it disappear as well as make it impenetrable. He wouldn't be surprised if Dorothy also lived empathic experiences.

Suddenly he felt speechless. His disease went unnoticed and Dorothy kept on tasting her fruit, completely oblivious, at least so he hoped.

"So did you already decide what you're going to do today?" The woman's question required a too hard effort to Quatre, whose brain was completely busy with other thoughts. He lingered his gaze on those rosy lips, slightly wet with the sweet fruit juice. '_I wonder if she's aware that she's so beautiful..._'

"Quatre?" Dorothy leaned on the table, staring at his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Uh! Yes, I'm sorry...I was thinking."

One of her half amused and arrogant smiles lit her face. "I know that."

Quatre gulped. He felt the unpleasant sensation that he just primed the fuse of the challenge that she implicitly threatened. Perhaps that was the best moment to evade. "I still have to decide, and you?"

She shrugged. "I actually didn't. I usually improvise."

Quatre's heart started to run wild. Perhaps he could invite her to pass the rest of the day with him...But what if she refused, or worse, if she laughed at him? After all she never hid her disdain for him. More likely, if he asked her out for a day-trip, he'd damage her opinion about him even more. On the other hand...Didn't he come on Earth to resume their relationship? By the way, which relationship was he talking about?

So resolving that since it was really unlikely that their bond could worsen more, he wouldn't loose anything if he tried. Besides he knew by experience that to face the situations, even the more tricky, was better than to wait for their spontaneous solution.

He quietly cleared his voice and begun, with the same tone that he used when he sat negotiating with associates and customers. "Well, in that case...Since both sides apparently meet difficulties to plan an effective resolution, my advice is this: let's join our forces to increase the chances of success of the common task."

Dorothy put her teaspoon into her dessert bowl and studied his expression. She appeared perplexed. "What is this? A date, mister Winner?"

Quatre surprised himself as he held her questioning gaze and smiled, unusually playful. "What do you think about: an ingenious compromise, miss Catalonia?"

She returned the smile. "I think you didn't change at all, Quatre Winner. You chose the wrong profession, you should be a politician."

Quatre accepted her statement with a shrug. "Is this a yes?"

"It's."

He nodded. "All right. Let's finish our breakfast, then. We'll meet again here in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

As he helped Dorothy to get on the motorboat that they rent, Quatre couldn't believe that it was really happening. The girl immediately accepted and she also appeared enthusiast about the trip by boat that he proposed. Personally he didn't feel like being a seaman, but if he could pilot _Sandrock_, he was sure that he wouldn't need to sweat too much to understand how how to make things work. Anyway, before leaving, a quick inspection of the control panel was due. He didn't want to cut a poor figure.

"So, where are we going, captain?" Dorothy crossed her legs and sat on the passenger's padded seat.

Quatre stopped his inquiry and turned to her. She had already gotten rid of her dress and she was ready to enjoy the bright sun. Her one-piece swimsuit, of a soft lilac hue that made her hair appear even fairer, didn't allow too much to imagination. Hugging her slender body, it gave her an elegant yet sensual look. Quatre briefly wondered if she chose on purpose to wear such a low-neck opening, because if that was the case, he had to admit at least to himself that she hit the bull's eye.

Once again she ignored his disease.

'_I'm sure she's doing this on purpose! I'll be damned if not!_' Quatre tried his best to play his role and overlook to his unexpected hormonal peaks. He was confused to death, but now he wouldn't admit it even under torture. He came there to meet her and now, as if nothing was happening, she was trying to...yeah, to what? To win a match to her favorite game: 'cat-against-mouse'? Was she trying to take fun of him? Or she wasn't doing anything, and he was the one whose blood was boiling because of a stupid lack of fabric? He was loosing the thread of his thoughts.

"What is it? Did you loose your thread once again, Quatre?" She asked in total innocence.

Quatre started. What? Could she read his mind now?

"You look a bit absent-minded, Quatre. Are you sure that everything's okay? If you're not feeling good we can meet another day."

The boy recomposed himself quickly. "No, no. Absolutely not. I'm really fine, thank you. I was just recollecting my mind about how the engine works. Now…Any idea about our destination?"

She seemed to accept the explanation. "Someone told me that on the other side of the island there are some lovely bays, and they can be reached only by sea."

"Perfect then! We have a route!"

Thanking the Heavens for not having to bear the unnerving girl's quiet stare, Quatre turned away to pay attention to the maneuvers necessary to leave. He started the engine and let the moorings go. Then he sat on the driving seat and, cautiously, gave power. The motorboat gently responded to his touch, quickly gaining a speed higher than Quatre thought possible. However he didn't allow his surprise to control him and, without too much effort, he subdued the vehicle, driving it out of the small harbor.

He didn't need too much time to relax. Actually the boat was quite simple to pilot: a gas throttle, an handle for the forward and reverse gear and the steering wheel, not too different from a car one, were the only necessary devices. If you added that the sea was exceptionally quiet, their cruise couldn't be more comfortable.

"Can't we go faster?"

Quatre arched his brows, casting a perplexed glance to the _log_'s 2 readings. "More than this?"

Dorothy stood up and joined him, going near the driving seat. Her long locks, shaken by the wind, caressed his forearm. "It's more fun, isn't it?"

The radiant girl's eyes conveyed her enthusiasm into him. "Okay. Hold tight, then!"

He pushed the handle to full throttle and the hull suddenly bristled on the waves, accelerating to its maximum speed.

Dorothy laughed and Quatre followed her. To feel the wind between the hair and the sprinklings of water on the face gave him a sense of freedom. He slightly turned toward the girl and he found that her happy expression was wonderful. He was sure that he had never seen her like that. In the uproar of the engine and the whistling of the wind, Dorothy caressed his arm to call up his attention, completely oblivious about the interest that she was already getting. "That way!" She pointed to a thin rocky promontory.

Quatre corrected the route, following her advice. In a few minutes they doubled the cape and he slew down the speed. "Is this the place?"

Dorothy clapped her hands, excited. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Wonderful." He stated, not completely certain if his word was referred to the uncontamined bay or to the dreamy girl's eyes.

Evidently unable to relax, Dorothy stood still by his side, leaning against the controls to keep balance. "Let's come closer! I can't wait to take a dip!"

Quatre slowly leaded the motorboat into the desert inlet. Now he had to anchor. Well, but it couldn't be too difficult. After all he just needed to throw the anchor into the water, right? Not really certain about the best order to complete all the necessary operations, he stopped the boat, thinking.

This time Dorothy intervened. "Move over there or, once anchored, the undercurrent will push us on those rocks."

"Yes, you're right." Quatre stopped where she suggested and went to the anchor-winch, letting the chain free. "Here it is. It reached the bottom." He said, turning off the device in satisfaction.

Dorothy stared at him in disbelief. "You must give more chain! At least a three to one rate between the length of the chain and the depth, otherwise the mooring won't be safe."

Quatre raised an amazed eyebrow. "I didn't know you were so expert."

"I'm not in fact, but when I was younger my father used to take me with him on his yacht."

Quatre smiled, following her advice once again. He had never seen her so relaxed and radiant. Actually he didn't know that she was able of such enthusiasm. So it was a second surprise for him, when she pulled out of her bag flippers, diving mask and knife and quickly got ready for her bathe.

"Where are you going?"

Dorothy laughed. "Can't you guess it? Swimming!"

"Yes, I can see this, but...What about all this arsenal?" The young man pointed to the long knife that she was now tying to her right calf.

"I'm going to fish." She stated, with that predatory gaze of hers. Now ready she approached the side of the boat and plunged, giving her back to the water to avoid the strong impact against the glass of the mask. "Hand me that rack, please." She asked, as she emerged.

Quatre accomplished, taking the small rope bag that hung from the girl's bag. "Fishing what?"

"Oysters." She took the net from the boy's hands and tied it around her waist. "But what are you waiting for? Will you stay aboard the whole day?"

"Uh...No, I'm coming. Wait, please."

He got rid of his clothes and quickly grabbed his equipment, plunging into the sea. The water was sparkling and warm. A real wonder! "I'm ready." He stated, resurfacing.

"Good. Let's go, then." Dorothy rejoiced. "In this island there are more oysters than daisies in a grass field!"

Without any further comment, they swam toward the coast, where the water was less deep.

Quatre had already seen the bottom of the sea, but just on television, during some documentary. And most of times, the seabeds that were portrayed during the cultural transmissions belonged to exotic tropical islands, exceptionally picturesque for the gaudy colors of their flora and fauna. Here it was really different.

Natural and earthy hues shaded on the submerged rocks, completely covered with little brown and dark green seaweeds, rosy blooms of spirographs and tiny mollusks and crustaceans that belonged to hundreds different species. Shoals of black damselfishes, so similar to little swallows, swam everywhere, floating in the crystal water as if time was meaningless for them. Every now and then, amidst the rocks, darted a bigger silver fish whose name was unknown to Quatre. The silence of the water, and the apparent absence of gravity, remembered him of the light sensation that he experienced in the vacuum of space. It was pleasant to taste a familiar sensation in such an alien place.

A dull noise, seemingly coming from everywhere, suddenly crushed the silence of the sea depth. The noise recurred. Quatre looked around, curios, searching for the cause. Just then he noticed that Dorothy was nowhere to be found. Panic-stricken he increased his efforts, searching for the girl, but she wasn't surfacing. He would have liked to shout out and call her, but he couldn't do that in the water. '_Oh, my God, Dorothy!_'

What happened? Immediately the peace he felt just a few moments before turned into turmoil. She disappeared! What happened? '_Dorothy…Dorothy!_'

The repetition of the unspoken recall within his mind just increased his sense of anguish. He frantically swam, without following a particular direction, sounding the bottom of the sea, to seek for the young woman. Only a few times in his life he had felt so anxious for someone else state. When his father was killed, perhaps, and when he shot Trowa, influenced by the _Zero System_. In that moment he couldn't do anything to bring those that he loved to safety – his sister Iria and Heero held him back with opposite purposes – but this time nobody could prevent him from getting Dorothy out of troubles. Whichever trouble it could be!

Something seized his ankle, pulling with strength. Ready to face the assaulter, he turned quickly, hoping that the disadvantage for being caught by surprise didn't cost him too much. He didn't know how he could fight underwater, but if the Dorothy's disappearance was due to some…

"Dorothy?" He swallowed a mouthful of water, when he let the snorkel fall for the surprise. He coughed, half-choking.

The girl frisked by his side and pulled the mask on her forehead. She looked at him as if he had turned insane. '_Or better… foolish!_' Quatre mentally corrected himself.

"What happens? You were swimming like a madman." She commented. Then she assumed a look that was half mischievous and irreverent. "What was that? An attempt to make a hit with me?" She laughed.

"No, well… I actually lost you." He confessed, feeling awkward like never before, with that mask that closed his nose.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry." She stated, unexpectedly. "It's just that I found a good hunting area and…Well, I'm not used to follow other people."

Quatre tried to reassure her. "Don't worry. What truly matters is that everything's okay."

He thought to see that she was blushing, but he was unsure of that because the enthusiasm got the best of her again. "Come here. I'll show you."

Determined to not to let her run away again, he followed her by close distance. They swam for a while before they met a big submerged rock, vertically splat into two stubs. Between the two huge fragments opened a crack large enough to allow a man to pass. Dorothy waved a finger, pointing to the slit and then dove in, but not before drawing out her knife. Quatre admired her fluid movements completely charmed. She could move with the same grace and naturalness of a dolphin. Diving seemed an effortless task for her.

Once inside the crack, he saw her bustling with her knife on the edge of the rock, as if she was trying to break it. The noise she made was similar to that he heard before. Quatre was dumbfounded when a small irregular splinter fell under the few, careful blows. The easiness with which she crumbled that boulder had been amazing, but now? What was she doing with that piece of rock?

Using her flippers, she resurfaced. "Seen?" She panted. "Now it's your turn."

Quatre raised a perplexed eyebrow. "My turn…For what?"

She laughed heartily "For what? Quatre, sometimes I wonder if you know how much you can be funny."

Completely embarrassed, he shook his head. "I probably don't." He answered in total frankness.

Evidently moved to pity by the idiocy that affected him since he had landed onto Earth, Dorothy approached him, showing the mossy stone that she collected. It was now that Quatre noticed that the 'stone' wasn't what he previously thought.

"Look," Dorothy started, "this is the point where the shell sticks on the rock." She pointed where the knife's blade exposed the mother of pearl of the oyster. "If the whole shell is attached to the rock you can let it there: you won't ever be able to take it without breaking it. But, if it's like this, the bottom valve isn't completely incorporated inside the rock and so you can tear it off with the knife."

Quatre laughed. "I mistook it for a stone." He confessed.

Dorothy giggled in return. "So you must have thought me crazy!"

Quatre accepted Dorothy's knife and prepared himself for the immersion. "I must say that you actually confused me." He said, before biting his snorkel.

He dove with a somersault. Immediately the floating golden hair belonging to the girl appeared by his side. She quickly surpassed him brushing with her stomach against the submerged rock. She pointed out a spot, where she obviously noticed a good prey and then moved away. The pearly lips of a shell opened on the rock, camouflaged by the rough brownish vegetation. As the mollusk noticed the intruder, it suddenly closed its valves, in a desperate, and often effective, attempt of defense. Quatre didn't give up and searched for a slit where he could slip in the blade, levering. After a few blows, the shell came off the rocky couch where it was born to fall into the hands of the young man.

"It looks like you just caught your first oyster." Dorothy stated, as Quatre emerged.

Breathing deeply, he handed her his prey that she put into her net. "If you didn't show me that, I think I couldn't have found it."

"I know." She nodded. "But once you get used to it, it's easy. And here there are a lot of these."

"So I'm not hopeless." Quatre joked.

She smiled lightly. "Don't play the modest. You didn't do bad at all for being someone that has seen the sea once or twice in a life. You keep the knife. I'll use a stone to take them off." She offered.

Worried that Dorothy could hurt herself by using a cutting stone, Quatre didn't even notice the compliment that he just received. "Not on your life! If you want to keep your hunting, you'll use this!" He turned the blade over his fingers and put the knife into the girl's hand. Astonished by the determination in the companion's gaze, Dorothy accepted his order in an unusual passive way.

As Quatre dove again, searching for a stone that he could use, she stared at the shining blade, holding it firmly in her hand. A painful shiver run across her spine, when she recalled the feeling that she felt in the very moment when, a still too close day, she plunged her foil into Quatre's side, spilling his blood.

The sea swallowed the silent tear that escaped her eyes.

TBC…

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2 _Log. It's a small device, applied on the hull of a boat (that generally looks like a small helix) that is used to measure the boat's speed. This sensor is connected to a receiver on board that returns the value in the right unit. (Usually 'knots', defined as 'nautical miles per hour'). _

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**AN: **As always, thank you for reading. And please, don't miss to let me have your opinions.

Kisses,

Darkwing


	5. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimers: See first chapter. 

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

Chapter four 

To say that they had a dream day was an euphemism and this was why the only acceptable way to end with a flourish was a good dinner.

Quatre relaxed at the driving place, letting the wind blow away his hair while the dying sun brushed against his reddened skin. Dorothy, by his side, seemed finally free from her enthusiasm and was sitting in silence, completely enchanted by the dry and wild landscape of the coast. The rosy light of the sunset created what Quatre called a magical glow on her hair.

He felt his heart sink within the chest. He thought that she was beautiful.

Quatre recalled the thoughtless hours that they just spent together. They didn't talk about anything indeed, but they easily built a certain rapport. He relived with a smile the moment when she insisted to make him taste the oysters that they caught. He had never tasted one and, to be honest, even if the best gourmets all around the world considered them a deliciousness, he now knew that could have gladly lived without them. The mere thought of eating a practically alive animal had made his hair stand on the base of his neck, but Dorothy didn't listen to any of his arguments. She had opened the shell and had poured lemon juice inside – claiming that they didn't need anything else to exalt the taste – and then she had offered him the shell, as if it could be a common spoon. To tell all the truth, even after tasting it, he couldn't confirm or deny the girl's statements, because he just gulped it down.

On the contrary she could manage to turn into something sensual also that simple operation. He still had his eyes filled with her soft lips, as they bit the wet pulp, held captive into the pearl-shell; the rosy tongue that brushed against the perfectly white teeth; the tapering and quick fingers that handled the heavy sub knife with unexpected ability…Man! If to assist to a similar view again he had to eat a whole basket of alive oysters, he was going to comply without a second thought! '_Oh, God!_' Quatre thought, suddenly worried. '_I'm starting to think like Duo!_'

"We are almost arrived." Dorothy broke the relaxed silence, beckoning to the lights of the harbor of the town of Mürter.

It apparently was just slightly bigger than Jezera, but one could tell that the small town lived following more worldly rhythms. The promenade along the sea was crowded with tourists and, even if the evening was still young, many places were already open, their signs shining.

In a few minutes they crossed the entrance. "Now we have to find a good place to dock." Quatre said, a bit worried since the traffic of boats was surely intense.

"Over there." Dorothy pointed her finger. "We can find a place in the second row."

Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Second row?"

"Don't worry. We can do that. We just have to place ourselves so that we don't damage the other boats. Then to get off we can jump from a boat to another. Nobody takes offence for this, it's normal."

Following the girl's advice, Quatre strove to moor in a proper way. We was sure that a real sailor would laugh at how he fastened the boat, but after all he was also sure that he didn't do too bad for 'someone that has seen the sea once or twice in a life'.

Quatre preceded Dorothy onto the ground, helping her to jump onto the wharf. She accepted his hand, even if he was sure that she could have perfectly made it by herself.

"Where can we go, then?" He asked. "Any idea?"

She settled her light summer dress, judging her attire with a not really convinced expression. "I think that the best would be something simple. I can't figure where else I could go, dressed like this."

"I'm sure that nobody could contradict me if I said: everywhere." Quatre dared a compliment, hit by a sudden attack of boldness.

She smiled, lowering her gaze. Finally, for once, she was the one feeling uneasy and Quatre the one that pretended to ignore it. He offered her his arm. "Can we go?"

She hesitated before accepting, then she smiled and assented with a nod.

"I believe tomorrow it won't be as good as today." She begun, trying to turn the speech on a general topic.

Quatre raised his eyes to the sky. "Why do you say so? I can't see a single cloud."

She shrugged. "It's just a feeling, but I've always been a bit sensitive about the changes of the weather."

"Really?" Quatre was just partially surprised. "Me too! I can't explain it, but when I was in the desert, together with Rashid and the other guys, I could always foresee the sand storms. I don't know, it was like I could feel it inside my bones."

She looked at him furtively. "I must say I find hard to picture you in a 'battle in the desert' attire. I've always thought that you were more for the 'theoretical strategies'."

"I actually have always been more inclined for reflection than for direct action, but circumstances often don't let us any choice and request us a certain flexibility." He admitted.

With a slight hint of sorrow she nodded. "That's true."

The melancholy vein that he recognized in her voice immediately alerted him. He didn't want her to sadden for some reason due to him. He thought to a quick solution.

"Hey, look over there." He pointed to a stage that was mounted along the promenade where it widened forming a small square. It was crowded in front of it and the tables that were closest to the stage were already taken. An attractive smell of barbecue filled the air. "It looks like they are preparing something. Do we ask for information?" He proposed.

She nodded, letting Quatre approach a man that belonged to the organization's staff. A minute later he was back. "It's a rural fest. The menu is based on grilled fish and then there's a local musical show. What do you think of this?"

Dorothy raised her eyebrows smiling. "I think that we couldn't have been more lucky than this."

"Perfect." While escorting Dorothy to their table, Quatre hoped that his happiness wasn't ridiculously evident.

Half an hour later they were sipping a local white wine, after having honored a generous helping of grilled fish. A background of flutes, violins and tambourines created a joyful atmosphere, in perfect tune with Quatre's mood.

"So don't you tell me anything about you, Quatre? What did you do all this time up there in space?" Dorothy brushed a well-groomed finger along the edge of her glass.

In front of such a direct question, Quatre couldn't avoid the personal subjects that he evaded the whole day. He tried to be vague. "Nothing special. I guess that you could consider my work boring, after all."

"Liar." She stated, as if that was a simple matter of fact. "I can't believe that the _CEO_ 3 of the _Winner Corporation_ finds his work boring."

Quatre shrugged. "It's not something that you could call thrilling. I must say I'd really be a liar, if I denied the economical implications, but too often I find myself missing some of the concrete situations that I had to face in the past."

Dorothy laughed. "You're an awful liar. I can tell by your eyes that you're proud of your company. Besides…" She made a pause sipping some of her wine. "Don't tell me that you're opening your business to the Mars' market just because you miss some adventure, because I can't believe you."

The young man widened his eyes. How could Dorothy know of the deal that he was discussing with the _Mars Mining Enterprise_? They kept the negotiations on a strictly confidential level, to avoid the dangerous fluctuations that a similar alliance would cause on the raw materials' quotations.

"Don't make that face, Quatre. The world is a place smaller than you believe and the Planet of Law is even smaller or we wouldn't be obliged to enter our offices with well sharpened claws."

'_Planet of Law?_' Quatre recovered his composure. "I hope that you could forgive my surprise, Dorothy. I didn't know that this business had such a high circulation."

She waved her hand displaying carelessness. "Don't worry, it hasn't. But my colleagues like chatting."

"You mean you also work in the financial sector?" Quatre was really surprised since he never heard her name. He would have remembered.

She shook her head. "No. I'm a lawyer specialized in civil cases, but as I told, we chat and…Well, the L4 'Golden Boy' is usually a good subject."

Quatre was well aware of being a tasty prey for magazines of various nature, starting from newspapers specialized in financial topics to magazines dedicated to frivolous society news, filled with gossip. Sometimes he happened to read about scabrous details of his romantic life of which he didn't know anything. He was rather curios to know to which category belonged the rumors Dorothy was mentioning now. "Indiscretions or gossip?"

"When did you start to find interest in the others' opinion?" Dorothy bluntly asked. "I thought that you always acted without paying too much attention to that."

Quatre nodded. "I admit that you're right, but when you pass most of your time in a certain company you learn to be careful." He showed a half smile that on another face could have looked cheeky. "And especially you learn the value of caution, when you must daily talk to lawyers." He added.

The girl laughed heartily. "Touché!" She acknowledged, miming a toast as if her glass was an imaginary foil.

"So you win where I miserably fail." Quatre started to talk again after a minute. "I'm not ashamed to say that the last thing I did before leaving my office was cursing the classical clause at the bottom of the page. At last, after arguing with myself the whole day, I decided that it was time for a holiday." He told, without mentioning the mail that he got from Duo.

"It's just experience…" Dorothy deemed, wanting to dismiss the problem and Quatre didn't say anything more.

He could surely see Dorothy practice a forensic activity. It was a profession that perfectly suited her and that obviously gave her the opportunity to keep on facing her opponents. A perfect battlefield, where she could give vent to her combative temper. He was sure that she was an extraordinary orator.

"Experience…and necessity." Dorothy surprisingly added, as if talking to herself.

Quatre's sensibility didn't miss the bitter tone in her words. "There's something wrong, Dorothy?"

She stared at him with the look of someone that was nearly killing herself to keep control. He felt the urge to take her apparently frail hand, but he repressed his instinct.

"No, everything's fine."

Quatre didn't give voice to his thoughts and avoided to say that, if her daily life included that feeling of contrariety, it was far from being fine. He just remained silent, waiting. He didn't want to push her to talk about unpleasant topics.

She seemed able to read his mind. "It's not nice, but everybody knows that necessity is the mother of invention, right? I didn't choose this profession because I liked it." She confessed.

Quatre nodded in sympathy. "Well, I didn't too. Just think that when I was younger, I wanted be a musician!" He gave her a sad smile. "As you can see, I perfectly understand you."

He noticed a second too late that he told something wrong: the gray gaze of Dorothy had suddenly become harder than a gundanium block.

"You what?" The calm voice of the young woman immediately put him against a virtual wall. He couldn't understand what he said to upset her. He had the unpleasant feeling that he was experiencing the proverbial quietness before the storm.

"You understand me, do you say?" Dorothy almost panted in disbelief. "How the hell do you think you can even vaguely understand me?"

In that moment Quatre would have exchanged all his industrials to have a device that could turn him into a miniature of himself. He still couldn't understand the reasons of that reaction. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound offensive."

She waved a hand in distaste. "Always that goddamned kindness! Doesn't this sound hypocrite to you? You hurt me and then you ask for forgiveness, as if this was enough to pretend that everything never happened!"

Quatre, that kept on not to understand what caused that fury, could just apologize himself again. "I don't think it's hypocrite to be honest. I don't know what I did or said to hurt you. I can just say I didn't mean to."

"You don't know, hm?" Dorothy kept her voice low, but cold. It seemed like she didn't need to raise her tone to intimidate her interlocutors. Her ice eyes were more than enough. "If you don't know, I will tell you in four words: you destroyed my life, Quatre Raberba Winner. And now, after that you and your friends ruined my existence, you tell me that you understand my position?"

Quatre was stunned. He couldn't tell how much of him was shocked, sorrowful or deluded. "I…I don't know what to say." He could finally mumble.

"Well." She stated. "So shut up and listen, at last you'll finally realize something." She didn't wait for his reply and began her story. "When my father was killed, I was still a child. My mother had already left us after a terrible cancer and that meant that with my father's death I became completely alone.

My father was a very wealthy man and, after his death, his belongings were rightly mine, even if I was too young to understand what that implied. In that moment the only thing that I wanted was to have back my family and my nest. All things that money couldn't buy. But then, relatives that I hadn't ever seen before began to claim me for adoption, while my grandfather – my mother's father – fought to keep their claws far from me and took upon himself the charge of my tutelage. Despite of his old age he was a man full of energy and he was the only one that protected me, without asking for anything in return.

He could never replace my parents in my heart, but time helped us to build a wonderful relationship. I could find happiness with him, even if the seed of suspect had already killed my innocence. Then, as you already know, he had been killed too…"

Quatre found the courage to intervene. "But it wasn't our fault, Dorothy. _White Fang_ killed him."

She stared at him with hate. "Tell me and be honest, are you trying to say that, if you could get hold of the leader of the Romefeller Foundation, you'd just shake his hand?"

Quatre bit his tongue. He was well aware that, when those episodes took place, it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to soothe the question with a peaceful negotiation. But, even if he just had to thank a fortuitous circumstance, the death of duke Dermail didn't stain his conscience. "You should know better than me that not a single tribunal in the world could judge somebody for his intentions."

"That was just the beginning of the end." She retorted to him. "With his death I lost everything. The most part of the possessions of my family were still his and, taking advantage of the confusion due to the war, banks and sharks didn't waste time. They hadn't to sweat too much to take a lone, young and inexpert woman in cheat. This is why, after his death, I had no choice left but leave Earth. OZ and the whole Foundation were going to the dogs and I needed to find support elsewhere."

"Zechs." Quatre said, now completely hooked by her story.

"Exactly. Milliardo was a bit older than me, but when we were still children we always played together. He was perhaps one of the few persons that I could still call friend."

Quatre took the liberty to interrupt her again. "That was a reckless move of you. After all he was the leader of _White Fang_ in that moment." He avoided to mention the deep contradiction in her choice. They were those that shot the duke's shuttle after all.

Dorothy lowered her gaze. "I hadn't anything left to loose. If he killed me, I'd have left this world on the battlefield, like my grandfather and my father before him. If he accepted me, we'd have shared the honor of victory."

"But things didn't go as you foresaw."

Dorothy's tone turned into menacing again. "It was all your fault!"

Quatre decided that in that moment it would have been pointless to remember her that, if Zechs completed his plan, now they couldn't enjoy that wonderful starry night. So he kept his thoughts for himself again. "War finished a long time ago, Dorothy."

"Your war, perhaps. Since the day that my father was killed my war didn't stop a single day!" The fierce gaze of the girl stole his words. "And, to come back to the first question, do you still want to know how I started to practice this work? Well, you're done! When I came back onto Earth and I discovered that I really hadn't any place where I could go anymore, I had to fight with all my strength to recover something of what once belonged to my family. Nobody was there to help me, so I helped myself. I finished my studies with my few resources left and I immediately began to work without a proper legal training. I hadn't time to waste. What that the sharks left was now belonging to the ESUN, that confiscated everything from the deceased 'war criminal', as a reparation and solatium for the material and moral damage committed against humanity.

It wasn't easy to find concrete proof of my rights. Not every cause concluded with my victory, but I won some of them and in this way I also gained a good reputation as a law woman."

Quatre sighed mortified. "I hadn't any clue that you had to go across all this. I'm really sorry. I'd just want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you."

She bit her lip, more to stem a fall of curses than for real embarrassment. "Again with your excuses! I don't know what I could do with your excuses. What's done, it's done. Just…I don't truly believe that you could understand. You can't know how many times I dreamed to kill you and all your friends with my bare hands. You can't know how much I hated you, Quatre Winner! You and all your comrades!

A bunch of rebels, former terrorists, were peacefully coming back home and I was left back empty-handed…And as if this wasn't enough, while you could keep you past secret, I lived for months on people's mouth, since I just was the niece of an evil man, responsible of a bloody war."

From Quatre's point of view, Dorothy sill saw some episodes trough a deforming lens, but to be completely honest he couldn't blame her. He now could easily understand where her feelings originated. Yet there was something that sounded deeply unjust in that hate that she still nourished inside of her. And he was sure that she knew it too.

"You can't keep living like this, Dorothy. The tragedies of your past can't control all your life. You've a future of success in front of you.

Your father left you and your grandfather too. It's true, you're alone, but you also gave proof of being exceptionally strong. Don't allow to your hate to consume your soul. Let time flow again, Dorothy." To see her with such a torment in her mind made his heart ache. He had hoped that time could heal some of her wounds. "I beg you, Dorothy. You're too good to give up like this…" He didn't believe that it was the right moment, but the desire to hold the fingers of her contracted hand had the best of him. Trough the table he reached for her, gently brushing her clenched fist.

Dorothy suddenly drew back her hand. "I already told you once, Quatre. Being good doesn't make me happy! Kindness, as you call it, is completely pointless when you must fight to live." Then she stood up.

"Where are you going?" Quatre worried immediately.

"I'm tired. I haven't any intention to continue this conversation." She said in her resolve. "And don't disturb yourself. I can find the way home by myself." She said before turning away.

"Dorothy!" Quatre hurried to catch up with her, but when he pressed his hand on her shoulder, she shook him away and kept on walking without turning back. "Thank you for the wonderful day." She said in a sad and rushed whisper. Then she run away, along the dark dock.

Quatre stood still like a statue for a reason that he couldn't explain himself. She was crying. She didn't turn because she wanted to hide her tears! If he could, he would punch himself. Dorothy, the cold, inscrutable Dorothy, literally run away from him in tears!

The heart sank deeper in his chest, but this time he knew that it was for his own despair. He wanted to run after her, to hold her tight against his chest, and tell her that she hadn't any reason to be ashamed of him, because he was just a fool that turned a wonderful day into a living hell. But what could he gain from this? Why should she care of his opinions, if the only bound that she felt toward him was the regret for letting him alive?

The dull noise of a starting engine suddenly awoke him from his state of trance. '_Dorothy?_'

He run along the dark dock, following the noise's direction. A couple of red and green lights were blinking on the sea, now black like coal oil, signaling the imminent departure of a little boat.

"Dorothy!" He shouted. The golden hair of the girl swirled when she turned her head to him in the darkness. "Quatre, please. I need to be alone." To prevent him from giving an answer, she gave power to the engine and left, heading the motorboat out of the small harbor at the top speed.

"Damn! Dorothy! Don't do anything foolish!" He yelled and frantically searched around for something that he hadn't. He needed a boat to pursue her…

"She dumped you, eh?"

Quatre started, taken in surprise. Than he noticed the dark silhouette of a man that sat on the dock. He was fishing.

The young man ignored the comment. "I need a boat. Could you help me?"

The fisherman quietly turned toward him. A red-hot cigarette end fluctuated in the night, following the movements of the man's lips. "I could, but it would be useless for you. Trust me, kid, I know women more than you." Then he focused again on his fishing line.

Quatre didn't surrender. "You don't understand. She's out there alone…what if something happens?"

The man giggled. "With all the due respect, kid, but I saw the way you moored and you don't look like a sea captain. On the contrary, and again don't take this as an offence, the pretty lady there seemed perfectly competent. For me it's better for you if you take a taxi and go home."

"You don't understand…"

The fisherman laughed again. "No, you're right, I don't. But who can really tell to be able to understand a woman? The only thing that I learned after almost forty years of marriage is that, when they're really angry, their strategy is always the best. Listen to me, if you run after her now, you'll make the situation worse. When tomorrow things will be over, you'll buy her a beautiful bunch of flowers and everything will be back better than before."

Quatre was sure that neither an entire field of roses could resolve the question, but perhaps the fisherman's advice was wiser than he thought at first sight. After all he had to admit that, even if he had reached her, he couldn't do anything if she didn't allow him.

"Perhaps you're right." He admitted with a sigh.

"Of course I'm right." The man reassured him. "But let me tell you another thing, kid. You chose a beautiful wild kitten, you know? I'm not surprised that you're loosing your sleep for her."

Quatre inwardly thanked the darkness of the night that hid the blush suddenly appeared on his cheeks. "Well…I'll try to follow your advice." Quatre said, and spoke his quick goodbye.

The wrinkled gaze of the fisherman followed him in amusement. He sighed. "Ah, love!…The most noble of weaknesses!" He told himself, chuckling. Then he turned again his eyes to the sea.

TBC…

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3 _Chief Executive Officer._

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**AN: **Darkwing: "Ah! Women! Who understand them is a genius!"

Reader: "Hey, but you're a woman! O.o"

Darkwing: "This is why I've room to speak. ;;"

Thank you for reading and…Remember that your review is welcomed.


	6. Chapter 5

Standard disclaimers: See first chapter. 

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

Chapter five 

After a hellish hour spent rolling in his bed, Quatre finally fell asleep. Obviously he wasn't blissfully relaxed, so he didn't need a too intense noise to wake up again, just a few hours later. The tinkling of the halyards against the masts of the sailing boats, docked under his window, and the whistling of the wind among the shrouds pulled him back to conscience. Unfortunately with the awakening came also back the memory of the argument that he had with Dorothy.

He followed the fisherman's advice and he convinced himself that he took the best decision, but he wasn't quiet at all. Maybe he should have done in his own way and run after her. Maybe they would argue again, but now he would have more clear ideas.

He rolled in the bed again and put an arm on his forehead. Something didn't square. He could perfectly figure the kind of feelings that tormented Dorothy, but he couldn't understand why she never followed them.

Even taking into account that she never had the courage to kill, she had other means to destroy him. As she underlined, his fortune was due to the fact that only a few loyal friends knew about his past. If she wanted to annihilate him, she just needed to spread him to the mass media. His entrepreneurial career would collapse in an eyelash, like a house of cards. His solid economical empire would melt like snow under the sun. Yet she didn't do that…He needed to clarify things.

Outside, the shutter slammed against the wall, pushed by a sudden gush of wind. Before it repeated and could awake all the guests of the house, Quatre hurried up to block it. He sighed. Since he couldn't sleep, he decided to stay some more to the window. Perhaps after breathing some fresh air he would feel more relaxed.

He lazily looked around. Nobody was along the street at that late time of the night, but there wasn't peace in the air. The sky was perfectly starry, but an obstinate wind pushed small foamy waves to break against the wharf. The boats rocked and ran foul of each other, filling the atmosphere with sinister metallic cracks and sudden hisses. As Dorothy foretold, it seemed like a storm was approaching. All in all he would feel more relaxed, if he closed the window.

He was already coming inside when he got a glimpse of something out of place. Among the boats aligned along the dock, one was missing. Despite the darkness he could easily tell it, because in that point the sea could reach the promenade. Trying to prove his suspect wrong, he strove to remember which was the place that they hired, but after counting twice the boats, he resigned himself to fall panic-stricken. Their motorboat wasn't in the harbor. Dorothy didn't come back!

He wore the first bermuda-shorts and the first T-shirt that he found and got out on the landing. He suddenly stopped. He didn't know which was the room of Dorothy.

"Damn!" He ran down to the hall. He had to check on the register. He surely couldn't start to knock a door picked up by chance in the middle of the night.

Running, he bumped against a small table, making the ashtray resting over it fall. A loud crash of shattered fragments echoed through the walls, but Quatre paid a little attention to it. He was so busy, rummaging the bench, that he neither noticed Tomislav and Dinko, that were getting out of their rooms alarmed by the noises.

"Quatre?" Dinko lowered the broom that he grabbed to attack the 'thief'.

The young man didn't think for a second of the blow he risked to get on his head. "Where's Dorothy? Did you see her this evening?"

Tomislav shared a meaningful look with his father-in-law. "Actually…" He cleared his throat embarrassed. "Well, we thought that you were together."

"We were, well…Not in _that_ sense." Quatre turned around the bench and grabbed him for his shoulders. "Which is her room?"

"Number seven, I believe."

The boy immediately ran up the stairs. "Dorothy!" He frantically knocked to her door.

Nobody answered.

Tomislav reached him. "What's happening?"

"I must know if she's here."

Infected by the dismayed look on Quatre's face, Tomislav started to agitate too. He ran downstairs and came back in no time with a backup key. He threw open the door and entered. The room was perfectly tidy and the bed was untouched.

Quatre sank his hands in the hair, walking across the room like a lion in a cage. "May I be damned! I knew I shouldn't let her go!"

Dinko finally entered the room, joining the younger men. "But what happened?"

Talking and thinking at the same time, Quatre kept on stepping restless across the room. "We were in Mürter and we argued. Then she took the motorboat and she hasn't still come back." Then he stopped, facing Tomislav. "I need a boat. I must search for her."

The sailor shook his head. "It's unthinkable to start a search now. The sea is raising…"

Quatre put again his hands on the man's shoulders. "This is why I must find her!" He waved a finger toward the window. "She's out there on a cockleshell, she's alone in the mid of the night and, as if this wasn't enough, a sea storm is near to burst out. I won't wait here for the tide to send back the pieces!"

The three men started a dumb fight for a few minutes. Then Tomislav nodded. "All right. Let's go." He turned to the older of them. "Dinko, we're going out aboard _Jezera_. You stay here and don't leave the radio post for any reason; I need to keep in touch with somebody on land. While we're setting out, you alert the coast guard."

"But Tome…"

Tomislav shook again his head. "Quatre is right. If we wait for help, it could be too late. _Jezera_ is the only boat of the town that could make it so, if we can do something, we won't waste our time."

Dinko nodded, doing nothing to hide his worry. "Good luck then and…Be careful."

But before Tomislav could leave, a soft sleepy voice mumbled something at his knees' level. Obviously, with all the confusion that they made, they awoke little Ivana, that now was waiting for her portion of information. She pulled her father's shorts and grumbled something in her unsteady language. He pulled her in his arms and whispered her something in Croatian, clearly easing her, since she didn't return any protest when he put her into Dinko's arms.

"We're going then." Tomislav said, before heading down the stairs. "We'll send a radio update every fifteen minutes."

Quatre hesitated, looking straight into Dinko's eyes, as the child stared back at him with her clear and trusting gaze. "We'll be careful. I promise."

The elder accepted his statement with a sad nod. "Run now. Every minute can be precious."

When Quatre joined Tomislav onto the trawler bridge, he noticed that the man didn't waste time to dress. He wore the same clothes that he had when he rushed out of bed, that is to say, just his shorts. Anyway, despite that disheveled look, he radiated an authoritative and resolute halo. In front of his boat's controls he was the captain no matter his appearance. "Take care of the mooring. Once we're free, give me the 'clear' signal." He ordered.

Quatre ran outside, ready to obey. As soon as he slackened the ropes and gave the signal, the _Jezera_ moved away from the dock, following Tomislav's expert control as he drove it out of the bay. When Quatre entered the bridge again they were already receiving the first wheather update from Dinko.

"…Sea force: five; Wind speed: thirty knots, increasing. Direction: north-north-east." He made a short pause, and then assumed a less formal tone. "I just talked with the coast guard. They said they can't start the research before a couple of hours because they're already busy in the north with the capsize of a sailing cruiser. You're alone, Tome."

"Roger that. I'll update you with our coordinates every fifteen minutes. Over and out."

Quatre cast a guilty glance to Tomislav. "I'm sorry that I involved you in this situation. If I prevented her from taking that boat…"

Tomislav silenced him. "This isn't the moment. You rather tell me where you think it's better to start the search."

After one hour of searching into the most total darkness, Quatre and Tomislav reached the tacit agreement to keep for themselves every kind of prediction. As Dinko said, the wind had considerably increased its intensity and now the waves were so high that broke against the main deck, completely flooding it. The _Jezera_ moved slowly but inexorable, listing under every blow of the sea.

They had already completed the turn of the island once and they didn't find anything. Tomislav tried to comfort Quatre, mentioning the possibility that, to escape the backwash, Dorothy could have moved to the open sea. He explained that sometimes that could be a wise choice, but that usually could be practised in wide-open sea, where the chance of finding an inlet to recover was scarce.

Quatre pretended to accept that consolation, but intimately he never stopped to think that Tomislav didn't think that possible. After all he was the first to didn't think possible that Dorothy could have gotten too far from the coast. She knew better than him how many uninhabited small islands and how many surfacing rocks were scattered in that zone. Moving by chance would mean suicide.

"Why don't we make another turn?" He proposed. "After all it's so dark that we could have missed her."

The other man nodded and started to manoeuvre.

"What's that?" Quatre pointed to a lonely light that shone on the dark coast, that he noticed for the first time.

"It's a restaurant. But it's certainly closed by now."

"Why don't we go to ask? Dorothy could have asked for help."

Tomislav raised a skeptical eyebrow. Then shrugged. "There is no harm in trying." He acknowledged.

Docking was quite tricky, both for the very rough sea and the poor light, but Tomislav approached the wharf without too many troubles. Quatre immediately jumped down, but before he followed him, the captain of the _Jezera_ called Dinko, informed him about their position and received an inauspicious update of the weather conditions.

"Quatre!" He finally called.

"There's no sign of the motorboat here!" The boy answered.

"We must go!" The voice dispersed into the wind and reached Quatre's ears in a such a faint whisper that he had to get aboard to understand what Tomislav shouted.

"We must go." He repeated. "The wind is still increasing. With the good weather we'd need at least an hour to come back, but with the sea in this condition I can't make a prevision. To stay here any longer is too dangerous."

Quatre lowered his gaze, thinking. "Yes. Yes, I understand."

"We're risking to sink too, if things keep on getting worse with this rhythm." Tomislav added, as if he was trying to convince himself about how much would be imprudent to keep up the search.

At last Quatre nodded, noticing that the sailor was giving for grant the Dorothy's shipwreck. "You're right, Tome." He finally said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "This is why I'll keep on searching alone."

Tomislav needed some seconds to digest the meaning of the boy's words. "What?"

"I decided." Quatre stared back at him with a meaningful gaze: he wasn't accepting 'no' as an answer. "You get down here."

"That's foolish!" The man protested since, among the other things, he also wasn't enthusiast to let his boat in the hands of a rookie.

"This is why you get down here." Quatre stated totally determined. "You've a family that's waiting for you at home and they need you. As for me…I already have enough lives on my conscience to add your and Dorothy's."

Tomislav blinked in surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you can't go alone. I'd stop you at every cost."

Quatre frowned. "Please, Tomislav. Don't force me to violence. I decided that I'm going, even if I know that this is a foolishness. Yet I'm still not crazy enough to risk your life long with mine."

"You'll come back home with me." The man reaffirmed with a matching determination.

A whole minute passed before one of them moved a single muscle. The _Jezera_ kept on rocking, beaten by the sea, as the wind howled furious among the antennas. Both men stared at each other, waiting.

Tomislav acted first, attacking Quatre with a straight right. The physical power of the Croatian charged the blow with not common impulse, but the younger man didn't let himself unprepared and blocked the opponent hand into his fist.

"Tomislav!" He shouted, taking firm grip of the other's hand. "Don't make things more difficult!"

"And you don't act fool!" The other man roared, attacking with the free hand.

This time, under the blow of the punch, Quatre lost his balance and heavily crashed on the floor, pulling his adversary down with him. The fall immediately cost a bitter disadvantage to Quatre since, even if it was evident that Tomislav hadn't a clue about how to lead a fight, he had a not common muscular mass and a good span of height more.

The boy didn't give up and kept to struggle. He felt a bit rusty because of his sedentary work and he surely had never been brilliant in hand-to-hand combat, but Tomislav was totally uncoordinated and this meant that his expert eye didn't make a great effort to find a weak spot.

With a quick lever trick he reversed the situation, taking advantage of the same weight of his opponent.

A groan escaped the throat of Tomislav, as he suddenly found himself pinned down with the face against the floor and an arm twisted behind his back. "Let me go, Quatre." He panted.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

The man struggled to free himself, but Quatre landed a blow on the back of his neck making him loose his senses.

'_I'm so sorry. I would have never wanted this.'_ He stared for a moment to the lifeless body laying at his feet and then he carefully carried him on his shoulder. He hurried out and placed him on a high rock, where the fury of the sea couldn't reach him. Then he ran again to the trawler and slackened the mooring. He couldn't move away from the wharf with the same grace that Tomislav used to dock, but he could anyway reach the open sea. '_I'm on the way, Dorothy. Wherever you are, I'm coming…I swear that this time I won't let you alone._'

After that another hour had passed amid the blind fury of nature, Quatre started to hope that the proverb 'fortune favors the braves' could be more than a simple set of words. He thought to focus his research around the south zone of the island. Since the wind blew from north, it was fair to think that the girl searched for a recovery in that direction. Anyway the sea was starting to be dangerous and he was already so busy to hold control over the _Jezera_, that he almost couldn't look outside. Like that would serve! It was so dark that he couldn't have seen a mountain if he didn't pass enough close. He decided that he had to try to signal his presence and hope to be noticed. If Dorothy had been still alive, and if she still had access to the emergency equipment and if she had seen him…Quatre swallowed hard. There were too many 'if' in that story.

Nonetheless he grabbed the control of the acoustic signaler. He knew that the real sailors used it to transmit well definite messages, according to the sea code, but he would have used it just to make a bit of racket.

He started his flat fanfare, repeating the signal all along the coast.

After those that he believed centuries, a smoke candle lit on the water a red light spot, just a little more toward north than his route. It immediately extinguished.

"Dorothy!"

That light could be just her. He could feel it. He gave maximum power to the engine of the fishing boat, inverting the route, but the sea protested, flooding the deck. When Quatre almost fell for that impact, he decided that he had to proceed more carefully.

Slowly, striving to keep sight of the place where he saw the light, he moved forward against the wind. Finally he noticed something white floating on the water. He tried his best to approach it, but it was just one of the cushions of the motorboat's seats.

He leaned out of the window and shouted. "Dorothy!"

The wind returned a confused answer.

She was alive! She was there just a step ahead, but he couldn't see her yet. "Dorothy!"

Another call of doubtful origin.

He kept on calling until he couldn't distinguish a clear shape on the black surface of the sea. The small motorboat was at the mercy of the waves.

"Dorothy!"

"Quatre!"

"Don't move, I'm coming!"

Using all the care he had, Quatre tried his best to approach the boat, but he soon had to let the bridge to rescue the girl. He grabbed one of the many ropes that were aboard and leaned from the stanchion. "I'm throwing you a rope! Try to catch it and tie it somewhere!"

"Yeah!" Dorothy's voice cracked in fear. "I'm ready!"

"Now!" Quatre threw the rope outboard, but the wind deviated the trajectory.

"I lost it!" The girl cried in dismay.

"Don't panic. Now we'll try again." Quatre rewound the rope and threw it again. This time the operation succeeded.

"I have it!" Dorothy rejoiced, but immediately belling her, a wave suddenly pulled the two boats apart, making her loose her balance.

Quatre heard her cry and, with horror, he saw her fall into the water. "Dorothy!"

Without a second thought he also jumped into the water. In that frantic moment he just thought to rush by her side. Struggling against the overwhelming power of the sea he reached her right when she luckily resurfaced.

"Dorothy! Are you okay?" He approached her and helped her to float. She had drank and was coughing hard.

"Yes…I'm fine. I believe." She coughed again. "But we must go away! The boat ran aground! There are surfacing rocks and…"

"Attention!" Quatre pulled her against him as the motorboat, hit by another powerful wave, capsized not too far. "Can you swim to the boat?"

Gasping, she nodded.

"All right then. You go first."

Using all the strength given by their instinct of self-preservation, they sponged on energies that they didn't know they had. The struggle against the pressing waves of an indifferent sea exhausted all their resistance, but at last, their tenacity won its prize.

"How do we get up now?" Dorothy panted, grabbing the boardside of the fishing-boat.

If the situation allowed that, Quatre could have laughed at his stupidity. He didn't think about how to get back onto the boat at all! But he couldn't say that to Dorothy. "I'll get on first and then I'll pull you up." He stated, as if everything was part of his brilliant rescue plan.

With a few tiring strokes he reached the stern of the boat and searched for a hold amidst the fishing equipment that hang outboard. Someway he managed to grab something and to pull himself up. Now he had to take care of Dorothy.

He quickly threw her a rope. "Hold to it tight. I'm going to pull you up!" He wound the rope around one of the winches of the nets and, as soon as the girl held a firm grip on the line, he pulled her up.

Immediately he rushed by her side. As she put her feet on the deck, she collapsed on her knees.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

She nodded, speechless for the great fear and the effort.

"Come on, then. It's not over yet. We still have to come back."

Dorothy stood up, unsteady on her feet. Quatre tried his best to help her, even if the rough sea made his balance really precarious too.

They couldn't move a few steps though, when the deck dreadfully tilted under their feet, followed by a terrifying clang of metallic plates.

Dorothy yelled, as she felt her body thrown outboard.

"Dorothy!" Quatre followed his instinct once more and jumped, encircling her body with his arms.

They fell together in the darkness.

Something was keeping him from breathing. He was feeling a strong sense of nausea and he would have gladly paid to have the strength to vomit, but he felt like he was suspended in an endless limbo into someone else's body.

Why couldn't he move? He couldn't even open his eyes. Or perhaps he already had his eyes open and that darkness was exactly what surrounded him?

A strong sense of constraint in his chest made he suddenly feel like something was pulling him up at a dizzy speed. Or was it down? He couldn't tell that. He was completely lost and powerless. He knew that he had lost control over his body – supposing that he still had one and was still alive. Maybe that was the way you felt when you were dead: disconnected, soft, deaf, blind…It was less nasty than he thought.

An involuntary contraction of his diaphragm caused him a painful retch. He coughed. Something fluid flood inside his throat and obliged him to cough again. More liquid rose into his mouth, until someway he managed to spit it out. Suddenly the heavy sensation on his chest lightened.

Quatre took a deep breath, expanding the sore lungs. He coughed again and this time, the spasm suddenly decreeded the end of his fall into the vacuum. A diffused pain greeted his coming back to the living world, as if he was just born a second traumatic time. What had happened?

Again provided with oxygen, his brain started to dig within his memory, desperately searching for the most recent events. An unbearable anguish took the place of the nausea when, in his mind he stated to draw some sketches of what happened. He could remember that he jumped outboard with Dorothy, but everything was confused after that.

A pulsing stab to his right shoulder painfully incited his numb faculties. Perhaps he was starting to understand. He had left the _Jezera_ without control, and while he dove the first time to reach for Dorothy, the sea had pushed it too close to the rocks. Evidently they knocked against them and the impact flung them out. Falling into the water, he banged against a surfacing rock – that could explain the sore shoulder – ad then…Then he couldn't remember anything else. What had happened to Dorothy? Could he protect her? Was she injured? Was she alive?

He tried to call her, but all he could get was a choked mumbling.

Something moved by his side and brushed his cheek. It seemed a hand. "Quatre!"

The young man directed a dumb 'thank you' to that entity that the human being called God. She was alive.

Against any prevision the girl burst out into an uncontrollable and desperate cry. "You're alive!" She could whisper among the sobbing. "I believed you were going to die!" She cried, frantically squeezing his hand and posing her forehead against his chest.

Quatre coughed again, getting rid of the water that still irritated his lungs. "I…I thought…that this was what you wanted." He whispered with such a low voice that the roar of the waves almost swallowed.

The girl stood still. He now could hear her cry in silence and he could feel the weight of her head on his chest. For the first time since he regained his conscience, he opened the eyes. The sky floated upon them, perfectly oblivious of their fear and pain.

"Don't cry." He said, trying to reach with his hand the girl's head, but a burning pain spread across his back preventing him from making any movement.

"What's wrong?" Dorothy sprang sitting, her soaked hair was sticking on her pale face; the dark eyes were staring at him in the night, widened and exhausted.

Quatre tried his best to smile and ease her, but he could just make the situation worse with a twisted grin. "The shoulder…" He groaned.

Dorothy pulled back the wet locks and quickly dried he tears. "Wait. Don't move. I'll help you."

With equal effort for the both of them, Quatre could sit and drag himself against a rocky wall. The stab that he suffered immediately made him regret his movement. "I fear that there's something broken here." He panted.

"We fell on the rocks." Dorothy explained, biting her bottom lip. "I'm sorry…It's just my fault."

Quatre took another deep breath, trying to control the pain. "Are you all right? What happened next?" He asked ignoring the guilty look on the girl's face.

"Yes, I'm fine but you…you fainted." She told, dubbing the hands in her lap. New tears threatened to escape her again. "If it wasn't for you, I fear I'd have drowned." Under the soft sliver light of the moon, Quatre saw her covering her mouth with a hand, to repress a sob.

"I think I could say the same." Was his comment. "But how could you take us both here? Where are we?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just know that I swam until I didn't land." She breathed. "Luckily there's sand here, because if not I don't think I could have pulled you up the rocks. I actually thought that we where going to drown together."

After a long pause of silence, Quatre was the first to talk. "Thank you for not abandoning me. I know that the temptation must have been strong."

Dorothy kept her silence. When she finally spoke she made it with a calm yet deeply sad voice. "Why can't I ever win against you? Why Quatre?" She stared at him straight into his eyes, despite the darkness that obscured everything. "Please, you tell me that, because I don't know anything anymore."

Quatre remained speechless. He actually always thought that he was the everlasting loser. He didn't know what to say. "I…I'm not your enemy, Dorothy. I've never been. I never wanted to fight against you and I never wished, even for a single day, to cause you harm."

The furious song of the sea filled the silence, until the melancholy voice of the woman didn't break the night with a whisper. "This is the reason then."

A translucent sidereal ray reflected on her silent tears, until Quatre didn't reach her with his still uninjured hand and brushed them away with his thumb. "I already made you cry enough for today."

She didn't answer, completely impenetrable as always, but she didn't oppose any resistance when he made his fingers slip behind her nape and pulled her against him.

He wanted to kiss her and hug her – and for once she would probably have allowed it – but he intimately knew that it wasn't the right moment. He would waste everything in the storm of emotions of that night. That wasn't how he wanted to tell her that he had fallen in love with her.

So he let her lean against his undamaged shoulder and hugged her in a comforting way.

After a few minutes of silence, uniquely filled by the roars of the waves, Dorothy spoke, stifling her words against his chest. "I don't hate you, Quatre. I wanted you to know it." She ended in a whisper.

Quatre sincere smile curved his lips as he caressed her wet head. "Don't say anything. He said, half-closing his eyes. "You don't need to say anything."

They stood like that for hours, in total silence, listening to the powerful music of the sea, while the ancient light of the star slowly faded into the warm hues of a new dawn.

When the rescue squads finally arrived, they found them like that, blissfully asleep in the most far corner of the beach.

TBC…

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	7. Epilogue

Standard disclaimers: See first chapter 

**Author note: **I apologize for the long time gap between this and the previous post. I didn't mean to let you hang there, but if something could happen in my life…well…it happened! Eheheheh…

But now I'm here, with the final chapter of this ficlet that obtained an unexpected support which filled me with real joy and satisfaction.

I want to thank all those that sent me their reviews, that had always been welcome and appreciated and in particular my gratefulness goes to Takisha, Liz, Isis, Arayelle Lynn, Micayasha and Suki, that touched me with their enthusiasm and kindness.

But now, please, enjoy with me this last trip with our favourite characters.

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**The most noble of weaknesses**

By Darkwing

Epilogue 

Quatre was almost to give up the call, when the camera of the vid-com finally framed the blurred image of a dark room. A deep voice rose from the darkness. "Whoever you are, I hope for you that you have a goddamned good reason."

Quatre bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Duo. I hadn't a clue about your current time zone."

"Q-man!" A jumble of noises followed the exclamation, together with a loud crash and a thud, obviously coupled with a series of curses that would have made a drunken sailor blush. The light finally turned on and Duo appeared on the screen.

Quatre couldn't help but feel guilty. Duo's job was tiring and thus he was having the sleep of the just, before his call dragged him out of his bed. Or at least that was what it seemed, judging by the disheveled state of his friend's hair. "I'm afraid that my reason isn't good enough to steal your sleep. I know how precious it is for you." He apologized.

"Ah! Stop it, Q! I hope you didn't call me at…" Duo turned his disconsolate gaze, searching for a clock. "…At two a.m. to tell me that I must sleep. I knew that even before, thank you." He rubbed his sleepy eyes and stared back to the camera. "Jeez! For Hell's sake! But what the f…ehm…happened to you?" He blinked in surprise, pointing to the plastered shoulder.

Despite his reduced possibility of movements, Quatre mimed a shrug. "Compound fracture of the shoulder blade and corresponding humerus-scapular luxation." He stated, vaguely embarrassed.

Duo blew a whistle. "Will you be long?"

Quatre sadly nodded. "The doctors said that I'll heal perfectly, but before I can play my violin again, I'll have to wait for some months."

Duo grimaced. "Man, I'm sorry. I guess you won't come here onto Earth, then."

Quatre nodded again. "Actually this is why I called you. I had already arrived on Earth when this happened, but for obvious reasons I immediately came back here to L4 since I didn't feel like…"

Duo rose a hand to stop him. "Wait, wait, wait…you were on Earth, you said?" He scratched his head, mistreating a ruffled lock until a wide grin, sly and mischievous, lit his gaze. He slapped a hand on his forehead. "Dorothy! Of course! How couldn't I think of it! Hey, don't tell me that she is the one that crumbled you up like tat! Jeez! What did she get up this time? Did she push you down from a train? Or she tried to smash your head with an anvil, letting it fall from the fourth floor, and her aim was poor?"

Quatre sighed in resignation. After all those years he still couldn't always understand when Duo was playing a joke or talking seriously. What he was sure about was that after naming Dorothy Duo didn't seem worried anymore. Quatre tried to explain. "That wasn't an attack. On the contrary…"

"Ah! Gotcha!" Duo interrupted him again. "Wait! Don't tell it! Hell! I knew that some day it would come out! Yeah! The golden-boy is a sadomasochist stud! C'mon! I'm all ears! Now if you want to get rid of me, you'll have to blurt out all the details in a row…"

"Duo! That was an accident!" Quatre's face was purple. He counted unto three. "And please, if by chance you felt in the mood to tell me what you were dreaming about before my call, don't do it, okay?"

"Hey, but who do you take me for, Q? I'm a good fellow!" Duo showed off a scandalized look for a cool second fraction. Then his natural insolence gained control over him again. "I still have my sense of modesty, you know?" He impudently winked. "But now tell me…How is she like?"

"She…Who?"

Duo threw up his hands exasperated. "She…Who? Dorothy, of course!" When his friend answered with a blank stare, Duo watched him back as his friend just claimed that he saw an elephant tap dancing. "Okay, you didn't make a move. Fine. After all we all knew that you're more of a gentlemen than me, but you kissed her, right?"

Silence.

"Look, buddy. I'm really happy that this time you came back home standing on your feet, and it was nice to talk to you. Really. But now, if you don't need to tell me anything else, I'd come back to that dream that you have been so nice to interrupt. Good night! Or whatever it is for you there." He turned off the lights, grumbling something about being surrounded by _Gundam_ pilots that needed a medical report to understand the difference between men and women.

"Duo!"

This time the voice of the former _Deathscythe_ pilot emerged muffled. Quatre guessed that he probably hid his head under the pillow. "Yeah…"

"Before saying goodbye, I wanted to thank you."

The light lit again the room. "You're welcome. But why?" This time Duo was really perplexed.

Quatre smiled in amusement. "Well, for the apples, of course. They were delicious! And Rashid says hi."

When Quatre disconnected the communication, Duo was still there, his jaw hanging as he gasped in disbelief. Quatre leaned against his chair and giggled. Poor Duo. He truly shocked him. And who knows what he would say if he told him the rest!

He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it for the hundredth time that day and the crystal light of the solitaire that it held smiled back to him. Only a perfect diamond like that could make Dorothy look brighter.

The inter-com on his desk crackled and the voice of his secretary announced the arrival of the new trustworthy member of his staff. "Mister Winner, Miss Catalonia is here for that contract with the _Iron Trans_."

"I'm coming, Mrs. Bates."

"Yes, sir."

Quatre hurried to close the small box and made it slip into his trench coat. Then he opened the doors of his office and personally invited Dorothy in.

"I hope I didn't disturb you too much, asking to come here after hours." He began, after a chivalrous kiss on her hand. "But since it's a delicate question, I didn't want interruptions." He took her overcoat and hung it near his one.

"Not at all. On the contrary, if you didn't ask, I would." Dorothy sat down on an armchair, crossing her elegant legs, perfectly at ease. "The only problem is that I've nothing to report. Their agent called me because he couldn't finish to check all our notes to his…" She smiled with malice, "'clauses at the bottom of the page', so I can't do anything more than wait."

Quatre smiled in return. "Well. So, since they generously exonerated us from our daily overtime, we could have dinner together. I'd be glad to discuss with you about some relevant questions. A dinner could be the proper moment."

Dorothy studied his expression for a moment. "What's this? Another ingenious compromise, mister Winner?"

Remembering their old game, he decided to play along her rules. "This time I'd offer a different definition, miss Catalonia. If I told you that this is a date, what would you say?"

The woman couldn't hide her amusement. "I'd say that it's an interesting definition, mister Winner."

Quatre shrugged, as imposed his script. "Is it a yes?"

"It is."

The young man nodded, smiled and stepped to the clothes' stand. He took Dorothy's overcoat and, only using one arm, he helped her to wear it. The woman returned the favour, since his movements were made awkward by the plaster.

"Can we go?" He asked, offering her his arm. She nodded and let him lead her out of the room. Before leaving the building, Quatre approached his secretary's desk.

"We're going, Mrs. Bates. Please, you go too. Tomorrow we'll do what we couldn't complete today."

The woman raised her gaze from her screen. "I'll finish this mail that we must send before tomorrow and I'll leave too."

Quatre nodded. "Have a nice evening, Mrs. Bates."

"You too, mister Winner. Miss Catalonia." She said her goodbye with a nod and kept on typing on her keyboard with her typical serious stare. Then the note that she had near her computer remembered her of the message that she still had to deliver. "Ah! Mister Winner!"

Quatre, that already was down the hallway, turned back.

"A mister from Earth called you a few minutes ago. He was a certain Tomislav Rastova…. He thanks you for the wonderful present and says that he'd be honoured if you launched the _Jezera II_ on the fifteen of the current month." Mrs. Bates shifted the glasses on her nose, looking at her boss up and down. "I don't know what's he talking about, but he said you already knew everything and let me have his number."

Quatre shared a look with Dorothy, searching for her approval, then he nodded back to his secretary. "Please, call him back for me, Mrs. Bates, and tell him we will be happy to attend to the ceremony."

"Consider it done, mister Winner." The woman took note of her order and kept on typing her document.

As soon as the young couple left the office, she raised her gaze from the screen and pulled up the receiver of the inter-com. "Mister Rashid? They just left…Yes, they're alone…No that's not a place of ill-fame of course…" She sighed. "Look, I made the reservation in person and it's one of the best restaurants of the colony, nobody will poison them…and all right, I'll give you the address, but please, if you follow them, be tactful…this could be the good one!" She raised a thumb up and winked to Rashid. Through the screen, his stern look softened with a satisfied, happy smile.

THE END

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